


Who We Are

by Ava_now



Series: The Barden Collection [1]
Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Attempted Murder, F/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Witness Protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-11-24 04:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 51,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18161354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_now/pseuds/Ava_now
Summary: Rafael Barba encounters a perp during his time with Brooklyn SVU who attempts to make an unsavory deal with him.  He passes.A couple years later, he finds himself deep in witness protection with her, and they both wonder if they'll ever get out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know the summary is terrible, so I can pretty much guarantee the story is a little bit better! This is a work in progress, and I will update as I can. I have several chapters written as of now, so I'll be posting those once every day or two until I run out.
> 
> Please feel free to leave kudos or comments--they inspire me!

It had been a long night.

Shifting her weight once more from one foot to the other, she inwardly cursed herself for choosing the extra inch of heel.  Did it really matter that much?  Make her legs look that much longer, that much more sinful?  It wasn’t like these guys were going to be convinced one way or another by the height of her heels.  If they were in it, they were in, and she’d already dangled enough line to hook half of the second floor.  They’d be going down tomorrow, at least that was the plan.  Two more tonight to clean house, and hopefully she’d get at least a couple hours of sleep before the arraignments started.  She tapped the tip of her toe against the tile floor of the DA’s hallway, a nervous tell, before knocking soundly on the outer door to the ADA’s office.

Silence met her efforts.  She checked her watch again; their appointment had been for five minutes ago.  It was late, but he was known for his long hours and had said he understood her time constraints.  Undeterred, she knocked again, a little more forcefully.

The clacking on the tile behind her caused her to turn around.  He stood, frowning, head tilted slightly.

“Ms. Reynolds…where’s your attorney?”

She plied her best innocent, friendly smile, and took a step forward.  “Mr. Barba, hi.”  She dropped her arms to her sides, hoping the body language would loosen his defensive demeanor.  “I know it’s unusual, but I was hoping you and I could speak for a moment without Mr. Elias here.” She allowed her nervousness to flit across her features.  “I have a feeling this conversation might be…better…without him.”

Mr. Barba appeared to soften for just a moment, then quickly stepped around her, unlocking his door.  “If that’s the case, Ms. Reynolds, I would suggest that you speak to the head of legal aid.  There’s nothing I can do for you without your legal representative here.”  He turned slightly, nodding.  “I’m sorry.  Goodnight.”

She watched him step into his office, the light flicking on, the sound of his briefcase hitting the desk.  Of all of them, she knew this one wasn’t going to be easy.  Elias had taken the bait in literally thirteen minutes.  She had heard that Ellison had managed to pull down both Donovan and Briggs in less than an hour combined.  Going in to tonight, they had known the three men were deeply involved.  What nobody knew, though, was if Barba was complicit as well.  As she had dealt with him and Elias over the last couple of weeks, she had come to recognize that he was intelligent, articulate, and had a certain level of disdain for those he felt couldn’t keep up.  That lot, it seemed, currently included Elias, and on a separate plane, herself.  What she hadn’t been able to determine, however, was if his arrogance was based solely on intelligence, or on a love affair with the principles he espoused.

Sighing inwardly (and once again hating her heels), she stepped inside of his office and closed the door.

Barba looked up, frowning again.

He was seated on his couch, flipping through files that appeared to be legal briefs of some sort, and upon sight of her, snapped the folder shut.  She saw his mouth open, and before he could stand, she quickly closed the space between them.

“I know this is irregular,” she stated again, before lowering herself onto the couch next to him.  “And trust me, Mr. Barba, I wouldn’t be here if I had any other options.  But I don’t.”

He was still frowning, still holding the folder, but now his eyes were on hers.  Bingo, she thought, then continued.

“I’ve explained to Mr. Elias that I cannot afford to serve time in jail.  I have done my research and know that you are a reasonable prosecutor and that there are other options.  This drug offense…this was a mistake.  A misstep.  You can see from my record that I’ve been working on getting my shit straight.”

Something in his expression shifted, shifted from that frown of distrust to a focus on understanding, on comprehension.  She took a slight breath as he laid the folder down on the table.

“Mr. Barba, I know I deserve consequences.  I’ve explained that to Mr. Elias, but I want a plea deal.  I want to plead this down.”  She leaned forward, allowing her blouse to shift just slightly as she rested her hands just above her knees, pressed together.  Her skirt slid slightly higher up her thigh and she kept her palms turned upward, open should he decide to reach forward.  “I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to avoid jail time.  You tell me what I need to do here, and I will do it.”

She watched his expression cloud over briefly, his mouth shut, open, and then shut again.  One last push, she thought.

Gently placing one palm on his knee, she said softly, “I believe you’re a man of your word.  I trust what you tell me.  I’m a woman of my word as well.  I’m willing to pay tonight for whatever you deem suitable in court tomorrow.”

Barba had been focused on her eyes, a look of concentration heavy on his brow, before finally shifting his gaze to the hand that now rested lightly on his right knee.  She heard him sigh heavily before his hand came to rest on top of hers.  “And you’ve discussed this with Mr. Elias?”  His eyes lifted, meeting hers once again.

She ran her fingers lightly along the inseam of his trousers.  “Yes.”

“And he was aware of the…nature of your proposal?”

She nodded.  “He suggested you might be amenable to this type of thing.”

“I see.”  

Her breath caught and she watched his expression harden, his eyes narrow, before firmly lifting her hand and depositing it back in her lap.  “Mr. Barba”--and she could hear the desperation in her own voice—“please…please don’t misunderstand me…I’m only asking because Mr. Elias said that this is the way things are done here in Brooklyn…”

He stood, stepping over her legs and quickly moving toward his office door.  She watched as he placed a hand on the knob, then hesitated, turning toward her.

“I’m afraid Mr. Elias has given you some alarmingly false information.  Any deals that will be worked out on your behalf, Ms. Reynolds, will be done so with your court-appointed attorney present.” He paused, and seemed to stare for a moment at a spot on his wall before continuing.  When he spoke, his voice had softened.  “I don’t know the nature of your discussions with Mr. Elias, but if they involve anything similar to this, I would strongly encourage you to consider going to the police in the morning.”

She stood and smoothed her skirt, then nodded slightly.  “I apologize, Mr. Barba.”  The words came out softly, yet firm in their delivery, and she crossed the floor and exited the door he now held open.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She was two steps out when she heard the office door shut, then the undeniable click of a locked doorknob.  Exhaling, she rounded the corner before murmuring, “You get all that?”

“Every word.”  She could practically hear Ramirez grinning through the earpiece.  He was as done with this as she was.

 

He swore the temperature had dropped ten degrees in the fifteen minutes it took him to uber his way from his brownstone to the office.  Hanging his coat up and shaking off the snowflakes that seem to cling to his hair, he picked up his coffee and rounded his way to his desk to review his schedule for the day.

Puzzled, he buzzed Carmen.  “What’s the status on the Reynolds plea today?  I thought that was at ten.  And my meeting with Donovan’s been cancelled?”

A moment later, his paralegal stepped into the office, holding open a small box of donuts.  “Apparently there’s some hangup with legal aid,” she explained, handing him a napkin.  “I just got an email saying that meetings with Mr. Elias and Mr. Donovan are on hold for today.  I’m not sure what’s going on.”

Barba shook his head.  “I’ll give a call down.  They need to reassign the Reynolds case and we need to get that pled out asap.”  He took a bite into the chocolate donut.  “Thanks.”

She nodded.  “Not a problem.”  

She had just disappeared through the door when it opened again and he saw her head pop back in.  “Mr. Barba…there’s something going on out here…”

With the door open, he could hear Jason Briggs loudly proclaiming, “You can’t be serious! This is ridiculous!” and a woman’s calmer, quieter tone responding.  He stepped out of his office into the hallway just in time to see a thin, black-haired man snap cuffs on Briggs’ wrists.  

Then a voice he vaguely recognized finished the Miranda.  “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.  Do you understand these rights as I’ve explained them to you?”

She had a hand firmly placed around Jason Briggs’ bicep as the man with her—her partner, he assumed—caught the other bicep in his hand.  In stark contrast to last night, she wore a turtleneck, dark jeans, and a pea coat, conservative yet well-dressed, finished with the badge on her waist and the gun holstered neatly at her hip.  Mary Reynolds, he guessed, was more skilled than perhaps he had realized.

He watched the tall man lead Briggs toward the elevator to the left, past Carmen’s desk, and when the trio crossed in front of him, her eyes met his again, and she nodded.  “Counselor,” and then they were on the elevator and heading down to the street.

“Well,” Carmen said slowly, “I guess you don’t have to call down about the Reynolds case any more.”

He snorted.  “You think?”  Shaking his head, he headed back to his office.  “She’s a damn cop.”

This time Carmen snorted.  “Uh, you need to pay closer attention.  She’s not a cop.”

He turned back around, tossing a glare at the paralegal.  “Cuffs, arrests…cop.”

“Not a cop,” she reiterated, before crossing her arms and tilting her head.  “Read the badge.  They were FBI.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot is unclear right now, but there are significant flashbacks in the next chapter that explain a lot of how these two ended up where they are. Hang in there with me! Thanks!

Opening the office door, Rafael flipped on the light and glanced around him. He felt the eye roll as it happened, and reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to be THAT man anymore.  He was Ed Rivers now, small business owner and coffee roaster extraordinaire.

Somebody had a ridiculously perverse sense of humor.

Snorting to himself, he moved farther into the office, past the four-drawer file cabinet and toward the desk facing the back wall.  There was an outdated computer and a prehistoric, corded phone atop the particle board top, and multiple open bills and folders covering the rest of the space.  He rolled out the faux leather chair from its spot and sat down.  It squeaked under his weight, and he was reminded of the chair he used to sit in while working on his degree at Harvard.  It had been a third-hand find, given to him by a scavenging uncle, duct-taped and wobbly but ridiculously comfortable.  It spun like this one too, and he momentarily chastised himself for being entertained by the thought, then wondered if Rayden ever spun in her chair.  Oh wait, he reminded himself, Elizabeth.  Elizabeth Rivers, his “wife”.  Eliza.  Beth. Betsy. Bitsy.

_ Liz _ . And his mind immediately was flooded with images of Liv.  At Forlinis, at the station, in the comfort of her own home as they drank and talked and shared.

NO, his mind returned firmly, tugging at his heart.   _ You can’t afford to do that to yourself right now. _

He winced internally, before repeating the names in his head again.  Ed and Liz Rivers.  Owners of the Outer Banks Bean Roasters.  God, these folks in witness protection really needed better hobbies.  He had no doubt that Whitnauer had orchestrated this as some kind of sick joke to get back at him for his foolishness.  He hoped to God that Rayden had some kind of experience in running a business, although he seriously doubted it.  While he had been focused on studying criminal law, she had clearly had her head wrapped around abnormal psychology and profiling--or at least, that’s what his experience with her led him to believe.  Somehow he doubted she’d managed to minor in business administration.

Resting his head in his hand, he finally dared to close his eyes for a moment, wondering how long this ridiculous sham would last.  While he had always known that witness protection was a remote possibility given his work, he’d never believed it could really happen.  He’d always managed to stay on the straight and narrow, hold a strong but firm reputation, and avoid any indication that he could bow to threats.  He just had failed to take into account the fact that some people didn’t care if he bowed to threats or not--they just wanted him out of the way, and were willing to use whatever means necessary to make that happen.  He still hadn’t allowed himself to think about what his mother must be experiencing right now.  Even though his “funeral” had happened nearly a month ago, he knew the pain had to be monumental; he was all she had left in New York.  Would she finally relocate to Miami now, make the move to be closer to her sister’s family?  Was she spending her time mourning him?  Making plans?  Or doing what came so naturally, throwing herself back into that consistently floundering charter school of hers?  That’s what he’d do, he knew, and he learned from the best.  She’d taught him well, and that lesson was part of the reason that while he was annoyed at this sudden change of career, he wasn’t worried about its success.  If a quick learning curve and hard work could ensure success, he knew that between him and Rayden, this business would thrive.

Rayden.  He also hadn’t allowed himself to think about his mother because, as sad and pitiful as his situation might be, he wasn’t leaving behind a child.  A toddler.  And while he knew that Rayden certainly understood her potential career sacrifices far more fully than he ever could, he was quite sure that she probably had considered this particular possibility about as seriously as he had taken witness protection in general.  Every time he thought about his part in her losing her child, the nausea, the racing heartbeat, the vague sickness returned.  There was no way he could add the guilt he would feel about his mother to that.

He stacked up the bills in front of him and shoved them into a manila folder, then turned the light off.  Rayden was nothing if not observant, and he couldn’t risk disappearing for hours at a time without her raising an eyebrow and questioning him.  They’d been feigning marriage for two weeks in this town and he already felt like there were moments she could almost see through him.  He’d spent years meticulously refining his deflection skills, skills he had come by honestly as a child and honed with precision as he had matured.  With colleagues, with acquaintances, even with close friends and family, he could shut down conversations within seconds by dropping a well-placed question or statement.  He’d learned the value of this strategy at his mother’s knee, the first time a nurse had asked about that damn cut to his temple.  He could still remember his mother’s quick response.

“You know little boys,” she had gently laughed, stroking his hair.  “He’s so rough and tumble.”  Her eyes had grown large as she motioned to the nurse’s left hand.  “Is that an engagement ring?  It’s lovely!”  He had felt his insides heave slightly as the nurse’s gaze shifted from his face to her own hand.  She had smiled and begun to talk of her fiance.  Mami’s arm had relaxed around him, and he had come to learn that his mother was clever  _ and  _ protective.  She just happened to be clever in caring for him, and protective in caring for Papi.

But somehow, Rayden didn’t seem to be distracted as easily as the myriads of people he dealt with on a daily basis.  Maybe it was her FBI training, or her study in human behavior.  He hated to think it could be the knowledge of abnormal psych, but it was entirely possible that was his tell.  He just knew that she had a nose for bullshit, had called it on a multitude of cases with a variety of witnesses (suspects and victims alike), and she had a way of looking at him sometimes that made his balls want to draw up into his stomach and play in a different sandbox.  Of course, her suspicious eye could also be due in part to his lies.  He was sure that she knew, had known before they ever left New York.  Knew that his lies had cost her her son.  They hadn’t talked about it though.  She hadn’t brought it up and he certainly wasn’t ready to have that conversation.  So already, a couple months into this mess, and they were tiptoeing around a massive elephant in the room like pros.  Like his mother and father had, like he’d watched Alex and Yelina do, like his abuelita had done with his abuelo when he would wander in a little too late, smoke and perfume and liquor permeating the air close around him.  Different elephants, lots of avoidance.

Given what he knew of marriage, pretending to be Liz Rivers’ husband should be a breeze.

Switching off the office light, he grabbed the manila folder and headed out of the building, and down the street to their bungalow.

****

Damn it all to hell, but she hated washing dishes.

Of all the things they could have cursed her with, they had to relocate her to a place without a dishwasher.  She could tolerate a tremendous amount of upheaval, and certainly she was--being moved to a small town on the coast of North Carolina, having to assume the role of Rafael Barba’s wife, away from her own child, for God’s sake, was a lot--but one would think Whitnauer could have at least given them a place with a dishwasher.

Maybe it was a good thing, she tried to tell herself.  Washing dishes at least kept her hands busy, and right now kept her anger displaced on something other than the pain of grief that kept trying to wash over her each night.  To know her routines of bathtimes and stories and lullabyes could so quickly and easily be dismantled shook her very foundation.  During the daytime hours, it was easier to stay busy.  She had insisted that Barba help her either with learning the daily running of the coffee shop or in small renovations to their tiny bungalow.  But at night, as she lay next to a stranger whose snores she didn’t recognize on a mattress that felt cheap and uncomfortable, all she could see and hear and smell was Max.  His tiny hands balled next to his sides, the soft sound of his little boy breathing, the smell of Johnson’s baby shampoo in his hair, until her ribs felt as though they were constraining her heart in her chest and she bit back the tears threatening to choke her.

Barba couldn’t know.  He wouldn’t know.  He didn’t have kids, he couldn’t and wouldn’t understand and there was no point in trying to make him.  Focusing on leaving her son would do nobody any good.  At least she could rest assured that he was safe with his father.  The farther away Max was from her right now, while she and Barba had hits out on them, the better.

She heard the screen door slam, a noise she hadn’t heard since childhood, it seemed.  For a second her mind raced to that afternoon a month ago; she subconsciously rubbed her shoulder as she remembered the bullet that had ripped through her with the attempt on Barba’s life.   Hadn’t she told him just earlier that day that the chances of BX9 actually following through were close to zero?

“You didn’t have to do that.  I know you hate washing.”

Barba was standing in the front room, holding a manila folder and watching her in the adjoining kitchen.  She dropped her hand from her shoulder and tossed the washrag on the edge of the sink.  “It’s okay,” she replied.  “Gave me something to do.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, I went over and grabbed some of these bills to see what’s needed to keep this place running.  The best I can tell, we just have to get this stuff in our names, I guess.  Let’s hope that we have decent credit.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.  “I’m sure we do.  After all, we own the business, don’t we?  How could we own a business if we have shitty credit?”

He sat down on the couch, tossing the folder on the coffee table.  “I don’t know,” he muttered.  “How could I decide I want to own a coffee shop when I had a perfectly good career somewhere else?”

Glaring, she responded, “Well,  _ honey _ , just remember you’re not the only one who gave up a perfectly good career as a  _ corporate attorney _ .  You know I was very happy in my job, too.  We’re BOTH adjusting.” 

He watched as she turned and left him alone, retreating to the master bedroom.   _ What the hell, Rafa?  _ He thought to himself.   _ This isn’t HER fault.  No point in taking it out on her.  _ Then, so very small inside himself that he barely heard it,  _ I want to go home. _

He picked up the folder and began to review the bills in earnest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback--Manhattan.

11:37 p.m.

He felt frozen, sitting in the hospital chair, wrapping his coat more tightly around him, as he tried to process everything the agents were saying to him.  Hits on both him and Rayden.  The shooter who attempted to kill him today, some young gang banger, dead, thanks to his colleague’s sharp aim.  

_ He’d spent the last two weeks being escorted by security detail before finally insisting it was enough.  If someone was going to kill him then they’d have their chance.  The threats had diminished considerably, to practically nothing in his personal opinion, and he was willing to take that risk.  It was his life anyway, and he should have the right to make those decisions.  Liv had looked at him skeptically when he had told her his plan to get rid of his detail, but she noticeably relaxed when he had told her he’d run it by Rayden and see what the agent thought, just to be sure.  Liv respected the profiling work that Rayden had done over the last couple of years since she had been on loan from the FBI; he had to admit, begrudgingly, that while Rayden wasn’t his favorite person to work with--he’d never quite built the trust back from when he was a potential target of that sting operation in Brooklyn--she generally was professionally direct and he trusted her opinion.  Her skills in profiling and behavior analysis had proved to be on mark several times, and he knew a sizeable number of his recent wins were due in part to her expertise. _

_ “So about these old threats,” he had begun, sinking into the comfortable chair across from her desk, “they’ve dwindled to nothing.  I haven’t been contacted in several days, detail has seen no one, there’s no chatter.” He wasn’t playing fast and loose with the truth, exactly, he told himself.  Two burner calls in the last several days hardly constituted a crisis for someone who was used to receiving four times that.  He tilted his head, finally making eye contact as she lowered her pen and looked at him.  “At what point am I allowed to start living my life again?” _

_ She had crossed her arms, chewed on her lip as he had seen her do frequently when weighing possibilities.  “Hopefully,” she began drily, “you’ve been living your life this entire time.”  One of her hands moved to her hair and twisted it, something else he had habitually witnessed when she was thinking.  For a profiler, this woman sure had a lot of tells, he had thought.  “But if you’re asking me about your detail, it’s probably okay to let them go since it’s been quiet, as long as you’re exercising appropriate precautions.” She paused, then leaned toward him over the desk.  “You know, like NOT giving anyone who threatens you your address, just to prove who’s got the bigger balls.” _

_ He wasn’t sure whether to be offended by her language or not, but it was hard to keep the grin off his face anyway.  He chose to go for mock indignation.  “Now doctor, surely your profiling has taught you what all good el barrio boys know--” _

_ She arched an eyebrow.  “That when facing imminent death, peacocking will save you?” _

_ Barba had snorted.  “Something like that,” he acknowledged.  “So...you’ll back me up with Liv?” _

_ “Sure,” she shrugged, picking up her pen again and beginning to mark the report on her desk.   _

_ He stood.  “Thanks.”  Grabbing his briefcase, he had moved toward her door when she said his name once more, sharp, and he turned around.  Her one eyebrow was up again and she was eyeing him suspiciously. _

_ “Make sure you take any other threats seriously, Barba.  And do NOT wait for weeks to report them.  We need to know as soon as it happens.” _

_ He nodded at her and smiled.  “Will do,” he had replied before heading out the door, down the elevator, and out of the 16th Precinct. _

_ The time had been 1:28 p.m. _

Liv was pacing.  He had heard her ask about next options, ask about his security detail, ask about the accuracy of the current threat level.  She had looked at him for a long moment as the agents had answered her in hushed whispers, then had turned her focus away.  She hadn’t looked at him again.

He hadn’t seen Rayden since the EMTs had brought both of them in.  The blood had soaked through her coat and into his.  Her eyes had been open, wide at that time, her skin growing increasingly pale and cold, and she was sweating and shivering all at once.  His last image of her was an ER doc barking orders as he had gently pried her fingers off Barba’s jacket lapel, gurney flying down the hall away from him.

“Mr. Barba.”  He vaguely recognized the agent speaking to him, a middle-aged man with paunch and a receding hairline, who he suspected was Rayden’s supervisor.  “At this point, your best option is witness protection.  With the information we have been given, we simply cannot guarantee your safety any other way.  Dr. Rayden has already agreed to go with you since our most current information indicates there is now a hit on both of you.  As you know, she is a trained agent.  You’re safer with her around.  She’s generally good at threat assessment.”  Generally, although clearly today hadn’t been her day, he could practically see the agent adding.  

He narrowed his eyes.  “Witness protection?  What if we went back to security detail?  This was a kid who tried to shoot me--”

“This was a BX9 gang member who was paid by an unknown subject to kill you today.  Make no mistake, if it hadn’t been for Dr. Rayden’s quick reaction time, your families would be burying you both.”  The agent, Whitnauer his badge said, shot Rafael a painful glare.  “You’re damn lucky to be alive, and your best option to stay that way is going into witness protection and having my agent go with you.”

_ 3:53 p.m. _

_ He had finished up his meeting with Calhoun in record time; usually Rita didn’t settle for a plea deal this easily, but even she recognized there was no way she could negotiate any better for her client.  His phone had vibrated, and the text was from Liv.  “Security detail done--be safe,” it had said, and he felt his lips draw into a giddy smile.   _

_ “Double Americano,” he had told the barista, quickly exchanging cash for his coffee and taking an immediate sip.  He could finally breathe again, and it felt good.  Maybe he would text Liv back when he got up to his office, see if she was up to meeting at Forlini’s later.  He found her to be one of the most magnetic people he had ever met.  She brought out every passionate tendency he had, and sometimes he wondered if she knew how much the sexual tension between them goaded him into actions he would never have previously considered, how much her opinions had impacted his own, and how very much she had taught him that a moral victory was far more satisfying than a simple legal one. _

_ “Barba!”  He had turned around briefly, seen Rayden running up the steps two at a time to reach him, folder in her hand.  “Hey,” she huffed, holding the folder out to him.  “Heard you were seeing Calhoun about the Nevins case.  Here’s the psych workup we discussed.” _

_ “Thanks, but too late--he’s taking a plea deal.”  He watched her eyes open in surprise, then her expression changed to one of being impressed. _

_ “That was fast,” she returned, and he grinned again--God, was he high on life today?--when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and heard his name again, black barrel appearing in the hands of a person he couldn’t even process. _

_ Rayden must have read him though; she had spun around and wedged herself quickly between his chest and the shooter, shoving the gun and reaching for her own just as quickly.  The shots sounded nearly in tandem, and Barba suddenly found himself thrown down hard on the steps beneath them, Rayden lying against him nearly motionless.  Frantically, he shook her, then glanced at the shooter.  A crimson pool emerged around the kid’s head four steps down, where he had stopped rolling. _

Barba glanced at Liv again.  She was pressing her hands on the back of a chair.  He watched her fingers flex, then grip, then flex again, before glancing up at her face.  Her mouth was a tight line, and her eyes were set on the floor.

“Rayden,” he began hesitantly, “she’s okay then? I wasn’t sure--”

Liv stood up straight, and now her eyes met his unflinchingly.  “She’s going to be physically fine,” she responded, and he could hear the tightness in her voice.  “The bullet hit soft tissue and she lost a bit of blood, started to go into shock, but the doctor says she is going to be fine in a few days.” She stepped toward him as the agents in the room began to converse in hushed voices.  “They dumped your phone, Rafael.  They know about the burners.” 

He looked away from her, arms crossed, blinking quickly.  He felt her hands cupping his elbows, and he faced her as she stepped into his space.  Softly, she continued--”Rayden is in the next room saying goodbye to her son.  He’s two, Rafael...Rafa, what have you done?”

Somewhere in the back of his memory he recalled, then, a couple pictures he’d seen of the kid in passing over the last couple years.  One on her desk, another on a personal laptop she’d hauled to Liv’s apartment once when consulting on a case.  He didn’t even know the kid’s name.

A long time ago, over drinks at Forlini’s, he and Liv had been talking about her new venture into motherhood.  He had been reassuring her that she could and was excelling at both motherhood and her career.  She had smiled at him, sipped her wine once more, and said, “You sound just like Vanessa.  She always tells me if she can do it, so can I.”

He had smiled wryly and responded, “Rayden drives me up a wall, but I can’t argue with her there.  You’re a great sergeant, Liv, and it’s clear you’re going to be exactly what Noah needs.”

The room was silent now, except for the slow tick on the wall clock.  He swore he could hear his own heart, pounding in tandem.

“Christ,” he muttered, closing his eyes, before opening them and trying to meet Liv’s once more.  “Jesus, Liv, I don’t know, I didn’t mean…”

Olivia gently squeezed his elbows, and he slowly met her gaze.  “Witness protection is your only option here, Rafael.  Vanessa’s too,” she said low, evenly.  “Please.”

Rafael closed his eyes again, exhaling through his nose.  His own mortality felt heavy, and the loss he was suddenly aware was occurring in the next room, heavier still.  “All right,” he agreed.  “Tell me what I need to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barba and Rayden adjust to their new normal.

Olivia wrapped one hand in his hair, slowly tightening as she moved closer to him.  He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, and opened in time to see her gazing at him just a couple inches from his face, and he couldn’t help but lean toward her.  He had wanted this for so long, thought and dreamt and fantasized about this moment for years, and now here she was, looking at him like he hung the moon.  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, tentative, soft, before tangling his own hands into her soft hair and kissing her again.  This time he allowed himself to want and to need and to taste.  He pressed himself against her, feeling her body sandwiched between his own and the wall.  Her hands in his hair tightened and tugged his head toward her neck, allowing one of his thighs to press between hers.  He lowered his lips to her neck and heard her breath hitch, and he felt himself harden.  “Liv,” he murmured, low, sucking gently against her neck.

“Rafa,” she moaned, stretching her neck longer to give him room.  “More, Rafa.  More of you.”

He dragged his mouth slowly up and over her jaw to her ear, suckling on the lobe as one hand left her hair and began to run up and down her side.  She was arching into his hands, and he let his palm settle over her breast for a moment before circling the nipple with the pad of his thumb.  He was unbearably aroused already, his cock aching for her, and rocked against her thigh twice before realizing what he was doing.  He started to slightly shift his weight away from her, but her hands quickly settled on his hips, pulling him snug against her, and he felt her teeth nip his jaw.  “More,” she repeated again, grinding herself against his erection, and he moaned, low and deep before thrusting against her.  “God yes,” she gasped, grinding again, “Just like that, baby.  Please…”

He could hardly think from the haze of lust fogging his brain as she continued to rock against him.  He swore he could come from this alone in seconds, like a teenager.  This woman took his breath away, always had, and he felt her quickly yank him by the arm--

He grunted as he landed flat on his back, hard, the blow jerking him awake.  His eyes flew open to find Rayden pinning him to the bed, one of her petite calves weighted across both his thighs and her hands firmly gripping his wrists above his head.  He felt exposed, his erection tenting his boxers between them, and despite her hold on him, not an inch of their torsos were in contact.  The sudden realization of what he must have been doing hit him like a brick.

“Keep your fucking hands to yourself, Barba,” she gritted out, low.  “And if you put that thing on me again I’ll cut it off.” 

He searched her eyes for a moment, feeling as shocked as she looked offended.  Her grip was painful and she was strong--in fact, he was surprised at exactly how strong she seemed in the moment.  He was sorely reminded that she used to be an undercover agent and obviously had a pretty good knowledge of how to physically take down a perp.  Her glare at him was seething, but there was something flitting across her face beyond rage--was it fear?, he couldn’t be sure.   “Rayden,” he said, low and staying as calm as he could,”I’m sorry.  It was an accident.  Won’t happen again.”  He could see her chest was heaving and  feel her hard breathing, and for a long minute she stared at him.  Then, as if she were seeing him for the first time,she suddenly sat up and released him.  Quickly grabbing a pillow and blanket, she made her way toward the bedroom door.

Daring to catch his breath, he sighed deep and long.  It was over an hour before he could get back to sleep.

****************************************

The shop was humming along with a steady stream of customers, and she found herself thankful for that.  Restocking the muffins they had gone through earlier, she shifted her focus to the young family coming through the door.  She moved to the register and greeted them.  “Good morning!  Can I help you with anything?”

The father smiled back at her.  “Well, we’re visiting and haven’t been here before...what do you recommend?”

Vanessa quickly ran through a simple explanation of drink options as well as light breakfast, and both adults ordered lattes and two slices of cranberry loaf, before they turned to their daughter.  “What about you, Lila?” the mother asked, kneeling down.  “What would you like for breakfast?”

The child smiled shyly, peering at Vanessa from behind her mother’s arm.  “I would wike some chocolate milk, pwease...and momma, tan I have a donut too?”  Her mother glanced up at Vanessa and smiled.  “Did you get that?”

Vanessa smiled at the little girl.  “I sure did,” she replied.  “A chocolate milk and a donut for Lila.”  She turned behind her, catching Rafael’s attention at the espresso machine.  “Two lattes and a chocolate milk,” she repeated, and he smiled at her and nodded.  Vanessa rung up the purchase.  “Are you all having a good time here?  It’s a beautiful area, isn’t it?”

“We absolutely are,” the dad responded.  “Such a great place to escape to.”

Vanessa nodded.  “You can say that again,” she told him.

*********************************************

They had established some basic rules.

Initially, they had both wandered through the days, uncoordinated and unsure, trying to develop some new normal.  He noticed she spent a lot of time walking back and forth along the beach.  She noticed he made a lot of lists.  One time she got nosy and read a couple of them.  One had a title of “Improvements to the shop”.  Another said, “To be done this week”.  A third was a list of books.  She didn’t know if they were books he had read, wanted to read, or what.  Then there was a list of song titles, things like “Dancing Queen” and “Time Warp”.  That one made her snort out loud, and she accidentally got water up her nose.

He also noticed she spent a lot of time on the front porch, in that ugly large swing they had.  It was still chilly out there most mornings and evenings, but she was out there almost every evening, a glass of wine and a book in her hand.  She seemed to choose books from around the bungalow.  Historical romance, mostly, from what he could tell.  He found himself puzzled as to why a woman as intelligent and professional as she would want to read such drivel.  But then, he reminded himself, they were both just trying to make it through.

She never mentioned her son to him.  Once he had asked about the child, and she had looked at him, a long, hard stare, before leaving the room.  When she returned an hour later, she was carrying a notepad and a pen.

“I think we need some ground rules,” she had announced, and then sat at the kitchen table across from him.

The rules were as such:

  1. The only names to be used between them outside of the bedroom were Ed and Liz.  This way there would be no confusion and would assist them in building habits of referring to one another in this way.
  2. They would share a bed like any other married couple, again, to make sure they had a relatively convincing relationship to outsiders.
  3. They could refer to each other using their former names in the bedroom with the door closed but nowhere else.
  4. No sex.  Keep your hands to yourself (She was kind enough not to add the word penis here).
  5. There was to be no mention of former lives outside of the bedroom.  All that mattered now were Ed and Liz, and they needed to live as such.
  6. All responsibilities, both at home and at work, would be divvied up in a fair and equitable way.



She had handed the list to him once it was finished, and he had read through it and nodded.  “Fine,” he had responded.  “Are we signing this like a contract or something?”

He had been kidding; she hadn’t.  She took the paper back, added her signature and the date with a flourish, and then handed him both the paper and the pen.

At least now, he knew where he stood.

********************************************************

He found that the days passed more quickly than the nights.

During the day, they spent the majority of their time working in the shop.  Surprisingly, he found that the world of coffee was more enjoyable to work in than he had initially thought.  He met neighbors, visitors, and regulars; he learned people’s orders by heart and became increasingly skilled at selling a variety of items in the store.  He even took a few online classes, learning more about beans and the roasting process.

She teased him sometimes about being a coffee snob, but he had the feeling she was secretly impressed that he could identify so many types of coffee based on scent.  Vanessa had learned she had a bit of a knack for baking, and took the time to create some of her own quick breads and cookies for the shop.  His favorite day was Fridays, when she would spend most of the morning baking, because she would always ask him to try things out and give her an opinion.  And in his opinion, pretty much everything she made was terrific.

At night, she always slept with her back to him, and he tried to return the favor.  He felt it gave her some flimsy form of privacy and respect.  While they were getting skilled in casual conversation with each other, they never shared anything more personal .  Often, he would awaken in the middle of the night to feel the bed softly shaking; it had taken him a few times of this happening before he had realized she was crying.  He did his own fair share of crying, but his spot of choice was the shower where nobody could hear.  He considered, several times, trying to comfort her, but in the end decided that she wouldn’t welcome it.  Clearly, she was hiding it from him, and he doubted she would feel anything other than humiliated to know that he knew.

Somehow he had managed to keep his dreams in check after the one about Liv.  He wasn’t sure how he had managed it, but he guessed his mind had established an invisible boundary while they slept.  He didn’t cross it.  Sometimes as he listened to her breathing at night, he wondered if she had been assaulted, if that was why she was so riled the night he had pressed against her in his sleep.  He had seen that look of fear before from other survivors.  But he didn’t have the balls to ask.  Besides, it wasn’t really his business.

And each day, he waited for the call from the U.S. Marshals, saying they could go home.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These days she found she didn’t know why she did a lot of things.  But she was empty, alone right now, and more than anything she wanted companionship.  Even if it was Barba. He was empty and alone too. She could see it in his eyes, every time he looked at her; the pain, the distance, the lack of connection that resounded so strongly within her.  Together yet isolated, and that made it even more painful.
> 
> ***EXPLICIT CHAPTER***

The rain was pouring down by the time she got back to the bungalow, and she raced from the driveway to the screened in porch, pushing the the door open and stopping abruptly as soon as her feet hit the wood deck flooring.  Barba was sitting on the porch swing, sprawled out, tumbler of scotch in his hand and a book in his lap.  He glanced up at her.  “Hello,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, before taking another sip of his drink.  “Care to sit?”

She slowly moved to the swing and sank down next to him.  “Any more of that left?” she asked, and he handed her the tumbler.  She took a quick swig of the amber liquid, feeling it burn in her throat, and suddenly was keenly aware he was watching her.

“Here,” he said, taking the glass from her, “I’ll go get us a refill.”

Instead of staying on the porch, she followed him in.  She didn’t know why.  These days she found she didn’t know why she did a lot of things.  But she was empty, alone right now, and more than anything she wanted companionship.  Even if it was Barba.  He was empty and alone too.  She could see it in his eyes, every time he looked at her; the pain, the distance, the lack of connection that resounded so strongly within her.  Together yet isolated, and that made it even more painful.

He turned around, slightly surprised to see her directly behind him, but handed her the tumbler again before turning to grab a second glass for himself.  “This weather,” he started, shaking his head.  “The cold just seeps into everything, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t answer him, but stood still, sipping her tumbler full of scotch and waiting for him to turn around.  When he did, he raised an eyebrow at her as though he could actually hear her thoughts, actually knew how big her void was at this moment.  Carefully, she set her glass down on the table, then looked at him.  “Will you fuck me?”

Both eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he turned his body fully to face her.  “What?” His face was a mix of shock and confusion.  “Rayden…” he began, breaking one of the rules right off the bat, “you don’t even like me…”

She ignored the use of her given name outside of the bedroom and shook her head.  “I don’t have to like you to fuck you.  I’m so damn tired of this...of this emptiness, this nothingness.  I don’t even feel alive anymore.”  Her voice was shaky, and after a second she picked up the scotch and quickly drank all that was left.  “The cold seeps in everywhere.  It’s in my body, my bones…”  She swallowed, hard.  “I just want to feel.  Anything.  I just want to feel alive again.”

He took a step toward her, then gently took her hands in his.  “Vanessa, listen to me.  You don’t like me.  I make you miserable.  I’m the reason you’re here.  I cost you your son--”

“Then make it up to me.”  She pulled her hands away from his.  “Please, Rafael.”  He watched her eyes begin to well with tears.  “Please.”

He reached up and ran a thumb under her left eye, wiping away the tear that had started to fall.  He knew this was an awful idea, that in the end, and probably by tomorrow, she would resent him twice as much as she did already.  But she was there, and she was beautiful, and she was warm and lovely and soft and needy for him.  She wanted him.  He hadn’t been wanted in a very long time.

“Yes, okay,” he nodded, “if you’re sure.  Only if you’re sure.  And if you change your mind, you can say so, and it stops--”

She was already reaching toward him, hand behind his head, clutching his hair as her lips moved restlessly over his.

******************************************

He was kissing her slowly, deeply, running his fingertips softly over her naked breast.  He traced the shape of her nipple with his thumb, and she shuddered as it hardened under his touch.  She was surprised to find him so gentle and patient; over and over, his tongue lightly traced the insides of her mouth--her teeth, her tongue, her lips--swirling and dipping as though she were something delectable with which he wanted to take his time.

He pulled back after several moments and regarded her, tilting his head slightly, hand tangled in her hair.  “You’re truly lovely,” he whispered, and she found her head shaking no.  She wanted him to distract her, to make her feel good, but not through lies.  She already didn’t trust him.  She didn’t want him to make it worse.

“Don’t lie to me, Rafael,” she said softly, her own hand resting on his bare shoulder as he leaned against her.  “You don’t need to say anything that isn’t true...I’m already here and I want this...just don’t lie to me.”

His face registered surprise once again before settling into a sad resolution.  “I’m not lying to you, Vanessa,” he murmured, running his fingertips down from her breast to her side and caressing her hip.  “You’re beautiful.  I may be a lot of things, but I’m not blind.”

This time she leaned up and captured his mouth with her own, if for no other reason than to silence him, and he allowed her to pull him back down against her.

Her body was soft.  It had been an incredibly long time since he had been with a woman, and even in his fantasies of Olivia, he realized he had missed capturing so much in his mind--the touch, the taste, the scent of her.  His fingers traced slowly over her body, as she allowed him to explore her; soft curves and smooth skin, randomly marred with scars.  Her breath hitched quietly as he touched a noticeable one on her breast before he leaned forward and gently traced it with his tongue.  Her hands were sliding up and down his back, occasionally to his ass, stroking and squeezing, before running back up and over his chest.  As she delicately tugged at his graying chest hair, he caught a nipple in between his teeth and sucked.

He heard her moan softly and felt her shift beneath him; her legs had spread more so he could settle between them.  Releasing her nipple, he traced his tongue slowly down her body, nipping and swirling and sucking, leaving light marks in his wake.  She was restless now, responding to his touches, and he realized how achingly hard he was.  He pressed his lips firmly to another scar on her hip and sucked as his fingertips ghosted over her clit.

She sighed, spreading her legs further to allow him even more access, and tangled her hands in his hair.  His tongue moved down her hip, to her thigh, and he suckled again, leaving yet another mark behind, as he made his way to her core.  Her breath hitched again, and he heard his name on a soft sigh as his tongue gently circled her tight bundle of nerves.  Then her hands were tugging in his hair and she was whispering his name over and over again, intermittently mixed with “please”.  

God help him, she was beautiful, and his biggest regret was the pain he had caused her.  Maybe, just maybe, he could make up for the pain he saw regularly in her face, make up for the devastation she never showed him but he heard so many times in the middle of the night as she hid her tears.  

He flicked his tongue against her firmly, rhythmically, as he pressed two fingers gently inside of her, and he felt the firm tug of his hair as her hips raised up, chasing after him.  He couldn’t help but watch her; her eyes were closed and she looked as though she were concentrating heavily.  He could see her breasts rising and falling as her breath came more quickly.  Suddenly he was painfully aware of the fact he was grinding against the bed himself, trying to get any friction he could to relieve the delicious pressure in his groin.

She arched against his mouth; he looked up to her face as he continued to tongue her quickly. She gasped and cried out against him.  He continued to pleasure her through her orgasm, trying desperately to tamp down his body’s urge to climb on top of her and thrust blindly.  She was so warm, so wet, and all he wanted was to be surrounded by her.  He suddenly realized she was panting and pushing his head away, and he pulled his body up, next to her side.He leaned toward her and gently kissed her jaw.  She turned her face toward him and rested a hand against his face before bringing her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue.

“Rafa,” she whispered, using the nickname he hadn’t heard since they left Manhattan,”I need you inside me.  Please.”

He nodded and kissed her deeply again, before pulling back to look at her.  “Do we need condoms?  I, uh...I don’t have any.  I’m usually more prepared than this, but…”

She leaned up and kissed him again, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down on top of her.  She reached to the drawer on the nightstand next to her and opened it.  Shuffling around for a moment, she picked up something and then held it between her index and middle finger.  Smiling shyly, she handed it to him.  “For you.”

He couldn’t help but smile back at her.  Something in her eyes suddenly made this seem less pitiful than he had been thinking it was.  He knew he was making her body feel good, knew she was responding physically.  For once, they were connecting in a meaningful way.  He pulled himself up to a kneeling position, opened the wrapper, and unrolled the condom over himself.  He glanced at her and, realizing she was watching him carefully, he smiled again and leaned down to kiss her.

“You’re not gonna hurt me with that thing, are you?” she teased, voice soft and cheeks flushed.  Her hand had moved toward his cock, and she brushed her fingers over his balls.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek.  “Not a chance,” he reassured her.  “Remember, if you want to stop, just say so...it’s okay.”

“It’s been a long time for me.”

“Me too.  I’ll go slow.”

She nodded quickly.  “Okay. Thank you.”  She watched him settle again between her legs, allowing him to rearrange her to his liking, spreading her thighs a little further and pressing her feet flat against the mattress.  Kissing the inside of her knee, he lined himself up.

“Nessa.” He kissed the inside of the opposite knee.  “We ready?  You still okay with this?”

She nodded, reaching for him, and he leaned over her body, resting his weight on one hand and taking his cock in the other.  Gently, he slid into her, then slowly pulled out before sliding in again, further, deeper.

She moaned his name then reached up to kiss him, and he slowly allowed himself to bottom out.

She was as still as he was, knees on either side of his hips, lips gently gliding over his cheek  “Okay?” he murmured, and he felt her roll her hips in response.

He kissed her then, sweetly and deeply, and began to slowly thrust inside of her.  He swore he could come in two minutes if he didn’t exercise some self-control; he turned his focus back to her, determined to let this make up for all the ways he had hurt her.  Her arms wrapped loosely around him, and as he began to move more quickly, he felt her nails scratching up and down his back.  Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him he was alive, gloriously alive in this moment.

Her hands had moved to his hips and his lips had moved to her neck when she sighed and said, “You feel so good.  You make me feel so good.”

He pulled back to look at her face again, and her sleepy eyes met his, a lazy smile stretching over her lips.  “Do I?” he whispered, then nipped her neck.  “Do you feel good, Vanessa?  Am I good for you like this?”

She writhed against him, softly moaning again.  “Yes, Rafa...so much, so much.  Yes.  Please don’t stop...I need this...I need to come again, with you inside.  Please, Rafael.”

He began to thrust with a renewed vigor.  He wondered, briefly, if she begged all of her lovers like this, if she said all of their names like this, if she realized how incredibly fucking beautiful she was at this moment.  A thin sheen of sweat had broken out over her skin, making her glow, and he found himself wanting to hear her climax more than anything in the world.  He could hear the bed tapping the wall gently with each thrust, hear her breathing hard and erratic, hear the soft slap of their bodies as they moved.  Panting, he gasped, “I want to hear you come.  Please, Nessa.  Let me hear you.”

Her eyes opened, wide and lovely, and her face took on an expression of surprise as he slid a hand between them and firmly rubbed her clit.  “Yes,” he heard her moan, “Rafael, please.  I’m so close.  Please, I want you...need you.  Need to come…”

“Wrap your leg around my hip,” he instructed.  As her leg wrapped around him, he thrust deeply, firmly, quickly, and the look of surprised pleasure on her face nearly sent him over the edge.  “Now, sweetheart,” he whispered to her, continuing the circles over her clit.  She moaned softly, then louder, and arched her back so her breasts pressed against him and he felt her clench around him.  

“Rafa...Rafa...ahh…” and then he was there with her, shooting hot ropes of semen into the condom, arching his own back and feeling pleasure course through his entire body.

“Jesus,” he moaned, before her name fell out of his lips, “Vanessa...Nessa...God.”

When he came back to himself, he had collapsed against her, and she was gently stroking his sweaty hair.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, then gently pulled out and, removing the condom, made his way to the bathroom.

A few moments later he rejoined her in the bed.  She was lying on her side, still naked, watching him walk across the room.

“Just so you know,” he said softly to her, “You really are beautiful.”

She was examining his expression carefully.  He watched as her mouth opened and shut several times, before she finally said, “Thank you.  Thank you for saying that.”

He slid next to her under the blankets.  “I know we don’t normally do this,” he started, “but would it be okay if I held you tonight?”

Her fingers strayed up to the hair at his temple again, gently patting it back.  “Yeah,” she finally responded.  “I think I’d like that.”

He wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to get comfortable, and they quickly found themselves spooning, with Rafael cocooning her body.

He was almost asleep when he heard her murmur, “Thank you, Rafa.  Thank you.”

And he squeezed her gently in his arms, then settled himself in to sleep.

****************************************************

She woke up to see him smiling softly at her as he stroked her hip.

“I was just watching you sleep,” he whispered, then leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

A part of her wanted to pull away, to tell him this was a one-off, that there was no way in hell she would ever want anything more than an orgasm from him.  And he was lucky she wanted that.  And part of her hated him because of this circumstance that was totally his fault.  And fuck him, pun completely intended.  Part of her wanted to say all of this to him and to watch the guilt cloud his eyes and to know he would move away and wouldn’t let this happen again.

Except she wanted it to.  And here he was, eyes soft and bright, dreamy smile on his face, hand still stroking her hip lightly.  Damn him.  She opened her mouth to his, and welcomed his body pressing itself against hers.  His kiss was sweet and deep and welcoming, like coming home after a long, long stay away.  One of his legs moved in between hers, and she could feel his erection pressing against her hip.  And she suddenly realized that for the first time in three months, she wanted something.  She wanted to feel, and she couldn’t help but think he wanted that too.

His fingers traced back up to her breast and gently twisted her nipple.  “You think you might want to do it again?” he asked, still smiling, and then his tongue laved her skin from her mouth to her ear.  Instead of answering, she hooked a leg around his hip, nuzzling his erection against her opening.  She wanted him inside her, to move with her, to make her feel as much pleasure as possible, to drown out the reality they were both struggling through right now.

He reached past her to grab a condom out of the drawer, and then sat up to put it on.  “Just out of curiosity,” he said casually, “what made you decide to stock up on condoms?”

She rolled her eyes at him.  “There’s only three in there.  I had them in my purse when we had to leave Manhattan.” She reached out and stroked his chest hair for a second, before twisting his nipple.  He couldn’t tell if she was teasing or torturing him, and he didn’t really care.  It all felt good.  She continued,”There’s nothing wrong with being prepared. And given your current…” she cleared her throat and motioned toward his semi-erection, “ _ situation, _ I would think you of all people would be a bit more appreciative.”

“You’re right,” he responded, tossing the condom aside and moving his body between her legs.  “I was never a boy scout, so clearly my preparation lacks some coordination.”  He lay down, a hand on either thigh, before he pressed a gentle kiss to her pubic bone.  “It’s something I can definitely use some work on.”   Gently, he slipped a finger inside of her, circling through her wetness, and he watched her eyes close in pleasure.   “How long has it been for you?”

Her hips shifted against him, and he added a second finger.  “Since before Max was born...two years?  You probably don’t know this, but babies can kill sex lives.”

He snorted, then sucked another hickey on to her thigh.  They were silent again for a few minutes, until she finally said, “How about you?”

“Six months or so.  One night stand.”

She was watching him now, watching the slight movement of his hand against her.  “Male or female?”

He was taken aback by the question, and he hesitated for a moment.  “A man,” he replied.  Silence followed again, and then he asked, “Does that bother you?”

“No.”  She ran her fingers through his hair again.  “Why should it?”

He shrugged.  “Some people have a hard time with it.”  He began to circle her clit with his thumb, continuing the gentle thrust of two fingers inside of her.  “Does this feel okay?  I just want it to be good for you…”

She reached down, covering his hand with hers and began to move his thumb in quicker, firmer circles over her clit.  He followed her lead, and after a moment she moaned softly.  “Yes, like that.”  He broke into another grin and continued following her direction until her hips began to rock upward, wanting more of him.  “You better hurry up if we’re gonna do this,” she told him.  He pulled his hand away before reaching for the condom, opening it, and rolling it on.

This time when he entered her, she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, and he began a quick, firm rhythm.  “Jesus,” he muttered after a moment, “so wet, baby.  So fucking tight.”

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him deeply, allowing herself to taste him, stroke over his teeth and tongue. Slowly she moved her lips to his throat, and suckled against the slight stubble there.  She felt his thrusts slow and he softly grunted.  “I swear…” he began, but she reached up again, capturing his mouth fully, and he let her for a moment before he pulled back.  “You want to be on top?  I can flip us and you can have a turn if you want.”

She grinned at him, and he swore her smile was blinding.  “As long as you realize that I’m the one who sets the tempo if I’m on top...and you when it’s your turn.”

“Got it.  Ready?”

She nodded and he gently rolled them over.  She flexed her hips on top of him, adjusting herself slightly, and he thrust upward, noting how deeply she had settled on him.

This time she smiled more sweetly, less as though he were the comic relief in the room.  “I need you to know,” she began, “I really do appreciate this.  I feel like I can breathe again.”

He ran a hand over her hip and up past her belly, her ribs, and settled on her breast.  “You’re not alone in that,” he responded.  “I feel more alive than I’ve felt in weeks.”

She was watching him intently, rocking her hips almost as an afterthought, when she leaned down and kissed him dizzy.  His hands roamed back to her hips, and he held on to her as he  began to thrust upward firmly.  This time she rested a hand on either side of his head, raised her hips off of him slightly, and let him move her hips in rhythm to his thrusts.  He thrust upward, and she met him with as much enthusiasm as he showed.  

He was sweating now, and she leaned down to take one of his nipples into her mouth.  A deep groan greeted her as she suckled, and he held her hips still as he thrust forcefully upward.  “So damn beautiful,” he gasped, catching her eyes with his.  “You’re so damn beautiful…” his hands moved up to her face and he cupped her cheeks.  “Tell me you feel good.  Tell me I make you feel good.  I want you.  Want to come inside of you--want every bit of you, Nessa.”

God, he was a talker.  She shouldn’t be surprised, she told herself, considering the clever words that drove his career.  Of course he would love to talk during sex.  “Close, Rafa,”’ she gasped back at him, then sat up straight, sinking fully onto him.  She rested her hands on his chest, tangled in his chest hair, and rose and fell on him quickly.  His hands grabbed her hips again, clutching her firmly, as she rode him.

“God, baby, don’t stop...Nessa, don’t stop…”  His face was flushed, hair sweaty, body tight as a string, and she was suddenly struck with the realization of how much power she had in this moment.  The thought made her heady, and she ground against him firmly.  

His moan was loud and sudden, and he gripped her hips fiercely, driving up into the heat of her body.  She watched his face, his eyes closed,mouth open and gasping, body stiff and arched, and she couldn’t help herself--she leaned forward to passionately suck on his neck.  As her lips met his skin, he moaned again and pulled her tightly against him.  She could hear him gasping out words like “baby”, “beautiful”, “sexy”, “incredible” and several things in Spanish she didn’t quite catch.  And then his hand was once again between her legs, masturbating her clit furiously until she came on his hand and collapsed on his chest.

Neither of them moved for several minutes.  The room was quiet, save for their heavy breathing and the tap of the rain on the windows.  Then, softly, he murmured, “Are you sorry?”

She wasn’t.  She wasn’t sorry in the slightest.  She told him as much.

He sighed then, kissed her cheek gently.  “I need to go to the bathroom,” he reminded her, and she carefully moved off of him.

He was glad she wasn’t sorry.  He wasn’t sorry either, and even if this never happened again, he already knew he would never regret this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barba and Rayden continue to comfort one another.

Ever since she fell asleep in his arms, Vanessa quickly made it a nightly habit to spoon with him.  There was something soothing and relaxing  about being enveloped in his arms, and she found that she fit perfectly there.  Some nights they made love, some nights they just held each other, but they always found themselves spooning again before drifting off to sleep.

She found herself to be somewhat surprised at how easy it was to fall into that routine.  There were still moments in which she looked at him and all she could  think about was her son, and the awareness that Rafael had taken that from her, even accidentally, was overwhelming.  But there were also many moments where he was the only source of comfort she felt, and she could not--would not--give that up.

She had never been treated so well by a partner before.  Occasionally she would tease him that he had mastered the idea of winning a woman’s heart through domestic chores, and he would scowl at her before reminding her that he ate/slept/showered/pissed here too, and it shouldn’t be an issue for him to be responsible for himself, thankyouverymuch.  But she couldn’t help but watch him from the corner of her eye, waiting for him to cut corners or slack off.  He never did.

And now that sex wasn’t off limits, they pleasured each other with wild abandon.  Nobody else in the house, no other responsibilities outside of work, and she couldn’t get enough of him.  He was a tender, kind, passionate lover who cared how she felt.  She’d never had that kind of experience before, and she was insatiable for it.  One night, as they lay naked, hands roaming over each other’s skin, she told him, “I’ve never had a lover as good as you.”

His hands stopped moving for a moment, and then one wandered to her hip, stroking over the skin there.  “No?” he asked, and she wondered if he was now going to have that cocky grin on his face the rest of the night

“Well,” she answered hesitantly, “in all fairness, those other relationships were based on, you know, real life…”

He was still grinning.  “I’m good at this, you can admit it.  You like it.  I’m extremely gifted in uh, satisfying my partners.”  She must have still been glaring at him, because he quickly added, “Of course, you are incredible in so many ways.  So it’s easy for me to do this.”

This time she didn’t hold back the eye roll, and it was so melodramatic that Rafael immediately bunched his fingers up on her abdomen and tickled her until they were both laughing, her gasping for breath and begging mercy.  He pulled back, still grinning at her, before reaching to stroke her hair from her face.  “You’re incredible,” he said softly, and moved forward to kiss her.  His hand cupped her cheek before sliding down to her breast, and his fingers traced the scar there gently, reverently.  “You ever gonna tell me about this?” he asked, then added, “You don’t have to…”

She sighed before running her own fingers over his.  “It happened a few years ago...undercover assignment that got away from me.  Hazards of the job.” She ran her hand over his back, low, tracing the long, thin scar at the base of his spine with her finger.  “You gonna tell me about this?  It’s from a belt, isn’t it?”

She felt him stiffen under her hand, and she laid her palm flat on his back.  “It’s okay,” she murmured softly, and placed her other hand on his cheek.  “We don’t have to talk about it.”

He hesitated, then turned his lips to her hand and kissed it gently.  “I was eleven.  It was a long time ago.”

She nodded.  “You don’t talk about it, do you?  Or think about it…”

His fingers traced the scar on her breast once more.  “No.  Like you don’t, about this.”  He paused, then caught her eyes.  “I hate that you were hurt.”

“I hate it for you too...but I guess none of us make it out of life unscathed, huh?”

He chuckled deep in his throat at that, then kissed her cheek.  “No, we don’t.”  His hand moved from her breast to her hair.  “One day I’ll tell you about it. But not now.”  Stroking her hair, he added, “Right now I just want to focus on loving you.  Is it okay if I just love on you for a little while?”

She ran her hands up his back, to his shoulders, and then over his biceps.  “Yeah...I pretty much love it when you love on me.”  A soft smile lit up her face as she watched him shift his body over hers and settle on top of her.

“Good,” he whispered, nipping at her earlobe.  “Good.”

*****************************************************

It was a rainy Sunday morning, the one day of the week the shop was closed.  She had awoken around six to the feeling of his hands slowly stroking her skin.  Up and down her arms, around to her chest, then over her breasts until gently settling on her nipples.  He fondled them, cupped his hands around them, and continued to softly kiss her neck.  

He swore he could wake up like this every day, with this woman spooned in his arms and the ability to touch her, kiss her, taste her waiting within his reach.  He had asked once when they first started being intimate, if it was okay for him to do this.She had nodded and curled up against him for more, and he had released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, before delivering more kisses to his lover.

This morning, he had awoken early.  She had been crying in her sleep again.  He debated about waking her up, but as soon as he ran a hand through her hair, she stopped.  He held her for a few moments, then got up to make some coffee.  As it was brewing, he peered out the window, and upon seeing the rain, breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to be anywhere today.  It seemed to rain here nonstop.  Cold and rainy, and it was only mid-October.  After his coffee, he had picked up a book and taken it back to bed with him.  It didn’t take long for him to realize he would much rather be making out with his lover than reading the book.

She was now awake, and rolled over to face him.  Every time he saw her face, he was struck in awe of how beautiful he thought she was.  Breathtaking, he thought to himself, and kissed her on the lips.  “Good morning.”  He pressed a stray kiss to her nose.  “You’re so lovely to see first thing in the morning.”

Vanessa teasingly pushed at his bicep.  “Funny,” she responded, before cupping his face fully in her hands and leaning forward.  Her lips captured his, and she held him close for several seconds.  Her tongue traced the outside of his mouth before slipping inside and lightly licking at him.  “I think we should just stay here all day,” she mused as he moved his lips to her neck again.  “It’ll be fun…”

“Mmmhmm.”  He allowed his hand to leave her breast and begin to trace the landscape of her belly.  “I’m all for that idea, if you are.”

She lay on her back and watched his hand make its way down her body, stopping every few inches to stroke or to be joined by his lips in a kiss.  Sometimes he nipped, sometimes he kissed, and sometimes he just suckled gently until a light small bruise appeared.  She already knew this was one of his favorite games, marking her, and she was so thankful she had the patience to play.  She allowed him to continue for a few more moments before she interrupted him.  “Rafael.”

He was gently sucking a hickey on her left inner thigh, but stopped and looked at her when she said his name.  “Yes?”

She snorted softly, then smiled at him.  “Don’t get too comfortable down there,” she explained.  “I want to give you head.”

She watched as his normally expressive eyes became larger.  This was territory they hadn’t entered into yet.  He had given her oral many times, but she hadn’t returned the favor and hadn’t really talked about it.  He had figured she’d offer if and when she was ready; suddenly, staying in bed all day was sounding ideal.  “Are you sure?” he heard himself say.  “I mean, you don’t have to...this isn’t quid pro quo or anything like that.”

“I know that.”  She sat up and maneuvered herself to put a hand on his chest.  “But I’ve thought about it a lot and now seems to be as good a time as any.”  She gave his chest a gentle shove, urging him to lay down on the bed.  “Unless, of course, you’re opposed to it.”

This time he snorted.  “I think I can be accommodating,” he returned, and reached for the pillows she was offering him.  He pushed them both under his shoulders so he was reclined but still able to see her.  She was arranging his legs just so, so she could lay between them comfortably, and then bent his knees so his feet were flat on the bed.  Then she leaned over and kissed the inside of his knee gently before running her tongue along the inside of his thigh and sucking a kiss at the top.  He sighed softly, then stroked her hair again as he watched her wrap her fingers around the base of his shaft.

She pumped him slow initially, then ran her fingers up and down him, base to tip, as though she were touching him for the first time. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, before leaning forward and licking the tip, then teasing the slit.  He watched as she circled the head and then swallowed him, sliding wetly up and down.

“Jesus,” he muttered, hands still tangling in her hair as she swallowed him deeper.  She began to bob her head and she heard him grit his teeth and suck in a breath.  She pulled back.

“You like that?” she asked coyly, then ran her tongue down the shaft to its base before swirling it over his balls.

He sucked in a breath.  “Yes,” he moaned softly.  “Yes, I like it.  Keep going.  So good.”  He looked at her for a moment, then said, “Do you like it? Like doing this?  Seeing me at your mercy?”

She did.  More than he knew.  But instead of answering, she swirled her tongue again over his balls before sucking one, then the other, into her mouth.  “You do,” he answered himself, feeling a little dazed and sex-drunk.  She always brought this out in him,the desire for more, more than any other previous lover had.  He didn’t know how or why, but for whatever reason, it was immensely easy to get lost in the sensations of her.  Now he was surrounded by the warmth and suction of her mouth, and as she traced a vein with her tongue, her eyes settled on his, and he could very nearly see her smiling through them.

Circling the head again, she stopped for a breath.  “You want to thrust?”

“I don’t want to gag you.”

“I’m good,” she returned.  “I’ll let you know if I’m not.” Her fist was wrapped around him again and she started to go down again, but then hesitated.  “Just take it easy at first, okay?”

He nodded.  “Of course.”  And he watched as she sucked him in firmly, working him fully into her mouth and partially down her throat.  She had moved her hands to his thighs, and was gently tugging on the fine hair there.  After a moment, he rocked his hips forward, and she swallowed around him.  He placed a hand on either side of her head and waited for her to look at him again.  Once her eyes met hers, he thrust forward gently once, then again, until he was rocking forward with a light rhythm.  He locked eyes with her, and she watched him unflinchingly as his cock slid back and forth.  He could feel the saliva and precum dripping over the rest of his groin, could hear soft moans from her throat as he continued to move.  “Nessa,” he whispered, hands still bracing on her head, “you feel so good...you’re so goddamned beautiful…”

She slowly closed her eyes but continued to welcome him into her mouth.  His thrusts were gentler than she had expected, and for whatever reason she found his hesitancy even sexier than she had imagined.  She ran one of her hands over his balls again, gathering saliva over her fingers before sliding her hand even lower and tracing his hole with one finger.  He arched involuntarily and she gagged on the sudden intrusion into her throat.

“Shit,” he panted, pulling back as she tried to get her gag reflex under control.  “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...wasn’t expecting that...I’m so sorry...are you okay?”

She cleared her throat again and let out a chuckle.  “Well, that wasn’t exactly how I had pictured that happening.”  She ran her fingers over his thigh again, then moved her hand to his stomach, urging him back down against the mattress again.  “I’m fine,” she reassured him.  “I won’t do that again if you don’t want me to.”

He shook his head.  “Oh, I want you to...I just probably needed a heads up on that one.”

One eyebrow raised at him.  “Consider yourself forewarned?”

He grinned.  “Yes.  I’m forewarned now.”

Smirking at him, she ran her fingers over the tip of his cock and used his precum to lubricate her fingers.  He was watching her closely, and she returned his look as she swallowed the head once again, sucking hard on the crown and tonguing the slit before sliding her lubricated finger over his perineum and circling his hole.  His eyes grew large again for one second, then he closed them and lay his head back against the pillows.

He couldn’t watch anymore without completely losing control, so he lay back and enjoyed the pleasure coursing through his body.  He rocked his hips back and forth into her sweet mouth, and felt her finger barely penetrate him, moving in gentle circles.  He thrust forward and her finger withdrew almost completely; as he pulled back, he sank onto it more deeply.  He could hear his own breathing, his own soft groans of pleasure, and hear her humming interrupted by an occasional soft gag.  He tried to pull out but she held on to him and sucked more furiously.  He swore he could barely focus on anything other than his desperate need for release.

After a few moments, he pulled her face back.  “Baby...I’m so close.”

She was stroking him with a tight fist.  “Do you want to come like this?”  He glanced down at her.  She was studying his cock carefully, a look of concentration on her face.  “Tell me what you’d like.  I want to give you what you want.”

God, what did he want?  When was the last time he had a lover offer whatever he wanted?

“Inside,” he murmured softly.  “I want to come inside you.”

She pulled back and sat up to reach in the drawer, then handed him a condom.  Winking, she asked, “How do you want me?”

He finished rolling the condom on, then took aim at the trash with the wrapper.  He missed.

“Let’s hope your aim is better with your dick,” she teased.

“Very funny,” he snorted.  “Lay on your back.”

She followed his instruction, spreading her legs and he settled above her.  A moment later he slid inside of her slowly, and he wasn’t sure which one of them sighed the longest.  “I really do think I could do this all day,” he told her, then slowly pulled back before thrusting forward.

“Me too.”  She wrapped her legs around his waist and felt him shift deeper inside her.  He held himself up by the arms.  “You always feel so good.  I want this.  I want more of you, Rafa.”

And she reached up to kiss him, to wrap her arms around him, and he decided he was done holding back.  As their tongues collided, their bodies pressed tightly and he allowed himself to give in completely.  She kept his rhythm, her body feeding off of his, until it was hard to look or hear or breathe, and all she was aware of was the immense pleasure winding its way through her entire body.  With one hand, she tugged his hair and the other held tight to his back as she climaxed, groaning his name.  He followed immediately, eyes closed and mouth open, mind going blank, body arching in complete bliss.

And it was still morning.

*****************************************

“I think we should consider a small menu for kids.”

She was leaning over the counter, chewing on the edge of her pen, while “Ed” restocked the sweeteners a few feet away.  “Yeah?” he grinned at her.  “You getting a lot of kids meandering through here when I’m not up front?”

“You’re a riot,” she responded sarcastically.  “Actually, you see it too...there’s a lot of families who come in here to grab some coffee and end up buying juice for their kids.  What if we had some kid-friendly drinks?  There’s a bigger return on those.”

He looked thoughtful for a minute.  “Well, we could certainly try it.  You have ideas?”

Their attention was distracted by a couple coming into the store.  “Perhaps,” she told him before turning toward the couple.  “How are you all today?  Enjoying this weather?”  Rafael turned his back to them, hiding a smirk while Vanessa chatted and rang up their order.  Little did these people know it seemed to rain here more than Seattle.

****************************************************

His breathing was soft and steady next to her, punctuated with an occasional snore.  His arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, and she tangled her fingers with his gently.

If she were honest, their bedroom was her favorite place.  It was where she was still Vanessa, and he was still Rafael; where she could genuinely feel and experience both comfort and grief, and where he did the same.

Here they were alone but not alone.  Here they were disconnected but joined.  He was her tenuous link to the real world.  Part of her was indebted to him for that.  She didn’t have to pretend here.  She was safe.

Closing her eyes, she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed meets the neighbors.

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon, and they had just closed up the coffee shop for the day.  The business itself  was going well, even if they did have a learning curve.  Fortunately, they both seemed to compliment each other in their skill sets.  Where Rafael was more business-minded, Vanessa was stronger in creative problems solving, and they worked together well.  They had quickly divided jobs in the store between them, based on interest and abilities, and were so far grossing a profit.  Rafael had finished crunching the week’s numbers before they left, and feeling satisfied, had shared them with her.

“Better than last week,” he had noted.  “That’s pretty good.”

She had smiled and nodded.  “Good.  I feel...at least a little accomplished.”

Once home, she had gotten her things together.  He was in the bedroom, hanging laundry in the closet.  “Hey.”  He turned to look at her, and she smiled hesitantly.  She was doing more of that these days, since the rules, and he found himself relaxing more around her.  “I’m going to Walmart.  You have anything else you need to add to the list?”

The list, as it were, hung on the refrigerator all week and they added to it as needed.  Despite the fact that their finances were combined, neither had ever questioned the other’s items on the list.  It was an unspoken rule they both would be responsible with it, and that everything would be purchased without question.

“Nope,” he replied.  “I added my stuff yesterday.”

“Okay, good.  I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

He smiled, then reached for another shirt to hang.  “See you then.”

Finishing the laundry, he decided to head outside and sweep off the porch.  The sand they tracked everywhere was the most obnoxious shit ever, and he hated it with a passion.  Sand in his shoes, in his socks, in the rugs, even in the bed sometimes.  It was evil, and as much as he hated it, Vanessa bitched about it even more.  He found that hilarious, given the fact that she had mentioned she had grown up not two hours from where they were….in another town, five minutes from the beach.

“Just because you live there doesn’t mean you go there,” she had tossed out irritatedly when he had laughed about it.

He finished the screened in porch, even shaking out the cushions on the swing, then opened the porch door to sweep the steps.  As he flicked his broom, the bristles almost landed on the head of a small child, and Rafael jumped instinctively, barely catching himself in time.

“What the--” he started, then realizing the child was staring at him with large eyes, he took a deep breath.  “Hello,” he began again, slower, “what’s your name?”

The boy took a drink from the sippy cup in his hand, then tilted his head.  “I’m Bwady.  Bwady Wandall Wallace.  What’s YOUR name?”

Rafael stepped down and sat on the stoop, so he was at eye level with the child.  “My name is...Ed.”  He caught himself just in time.  “Where’s your mom or dad, Brady?”

Brady shrugged his shoulders, seemingly nonchalant, then began to drink from his sippy cup again.  Rafael looked past Brady at the ocean several yards away.  Surely this toddler couldn’t be wandering the beach by himself.  It was now late October and there were very few tourists hitting the sand.  In fact, Rafael didn’t see anyone around at all.

“Brady,” he began again, “do you live near here?”

“Uh huh!”  Brady nodded vigorously.  “I wive wight dere!”  He pointed to the duplex next to their bungalow, and Rafael breathed a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” he said.  “What do you say we go to your house and find your mom or dad?”

Brady nodded again.  “Good idea, Mistuh Ed!”  Rafael winced hearing his new name sounding like the infamous horse, but took the boy by the hand and led him to the duplex, then knocked on the door.  After waiting a few minutes and not receiving an answer, he knocked louder.

“Mommy won’t wake up,” Brady said, examining his cup closely.  “I shaked her but she didn’t wake up at all.”

Shit.

Rafael looked around and, seeing nobody else, he knocked one more time, forcefully against the door, before trying the knob.  It turned easily.  “Hello?”  he called out.  “I’m your neighbor and I have your son!  I’m coming in!”  Cautiously, he entered the house, Brady in hand.  

The duplex was tidy and smelled of banana bread, which was cooling on the stove.  A half-eaten small bowl of cereal was on the table.

“Brady,” Rafael turned to the boy and knelt next to him, “can you show me where your mom is?”

Again, a vigorous nod.  “Shure, Mistuh Ed!” Brady grabbed his hand and led him through the duplex, down the hall to a bedroom.  “Dis way--she was fixin my stuff on my big, big shelf!”  

As Brady pulled him into the bedroom, he could see a young woman lying on the floor next to a stool.  A small crimson stain marked the carpet near her head, and her eyes were closed.

“Great job, Brady,” he smiled, then shook the woman gently.  “Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

When she didn’t respond, Rafael grabbed his phone and dialed 911, giving the address and quickly describing the situation.  He watched as Brady climbed onto the twin bed, swinging his legs, and began to play with a stuffed alligator.  He finished providing information and hung up his phone.  Brady looked at him and smiled.

“Hey Mistuh Ed, you wanna pway?  I gotted some fun toys...maybe you can pway until Mommy feels better.”

Rafael sat next to the boy.  “Tell you what.  Why don’t I stay here with you until the people come to help your mom?  That way we can keep her company.”

“I wike dat idea, Mistuh Ed.  You’re a nice friend.”  Brady handed him the alligator.  “Here you go.”

“Thanks, Brady,” Rafael replied, taking the alligator.  “I try.”

***************************************************************

Vanessa was unloading a shitload and a half of groceries and feeling completely irritated.  

She had gotten everything he had put on the list, from his fussy cheese and stuffed olives to the damn scotch she had to go out of her way to retrieve.  The steaks he had wanted to make this week, his choice of bagels that stank of onion, and the blue cheese dressing he drenched his damn salads with.  Oh, and the diet soda.  She would never dare say a word--he hadn’t questioned any of her purchases either--but diet soda wasn’t going to save him from a steak and cheese entrenched coronary at fifty, if he wasn’t careful.

And now she was hauling all of it, including that damn McCallan scotch, in from the car to the kitchen by herself, because he had taken off to God knows where.

This moment was a reminder to her of the all-too-familiar scenes she used to have with her ex.  She’d do the work, he’d disappear, and then show up two hours later with some kind of shitty excuse about how it wasn’t his fault.  Somebody at work needed him.  Some friend he had needed him.  His family member needed him.  

She had needed him too.  When she had gotten pregnant.  When Max was born.  When she had been assaulted, the first time.  It had taken her too long to realize her needs were always going to come behind everyone else’s.  And because she could never learn a lesson the first time, she was now fucking the man she was living with.  Granted, their intimate moments were the best part of this horrible situation, but she needed to have her head examined if she even considered it becoming more than that.

She was angrily slamming items into cupboards when she heard the front door open and shut, and a friendly, “Hey.”

She turned around, glaring at him, and watched the smile drop from his face.  It was quickly replaced with an all-too familiar look of guardedness. He had worn that look less frequently in the last few weeks, but she would recognize it anywhere.  He knew she was pissed.   “How can I help?” he asked.

She shoved a couple boxes of crackers in the cupboard.  “No need,” she replied, tossing a bag of chips on top of the refrigerator.  “I’ve about got it.  By the way, your scotch is in the liquor cabinet.”

“Okay, thanks.”  He watched as she picked up her purse and turned toward the bedroom.  “Hey, I almost called you.  Our neighbor fell and was knocked out and I had to call 911.”

He watched her freeze, back to him, then pivot slowly until she was facing forward.  “What?” she asked, and he could see the confusion in her eyes.

“Yeah...I was sweeping and the neighbor’s kid...this little boy, he came to our house and was standing there, drinking from his sippy cup.”

“A little boy,” she echoed faintly.

“Yeah.  It took a few, but he finally told me his mom was hurt, so I broke in and helped her.”

“You helped her.”

“Yes.”  He smiled, looking oddly proud.  “Don’t worry, I gave them our ‘names’.  Ed and Liz Rivers.  Next door, that’s where this happened...they’re Dina and Rob Banks.  Brady...the kid’s name is Brady.”

“Oh.”  She was still staring at him with an odd look, and he couldn’t quite figure out if she was pleased, worried, or nauseated.

“You okay?” he asked, reaching into the fruit bowl and grabbing a clementine.

She sighed heavily.  “You do realize we are supposed to NOT be drawing attention to ourselves, right?”

He paused, clementine section in his jaw.  “Of course I do,” he finally said.  “But I couldn’t let a young mother just lay there with a concussion.  I had to do something.  Surely you understand that.”

She nodded then, and he watched as she slowly broke into a grin, then a laugh.  He joined her, and watched as her shoulders began to shake and her laughter turned close to hysterics, and then she wasn’t laughing but dry heaving and running to the bathroom.

Cautiously, he followed her through the bedroom.  She was leaned over the toilet, crying and heaving, and he did the only thing he could think of, holding her hair for her and resting one hand on the middle of her back.  As her tears and heaving settled, he heard a soft voice repeating, “it’s going to be okay...it’s going to be okay.” It’s what his abuelita used to say to him as a boy, whenever he was sick or scared or too panicked to breathe fully on his own.

It took a minute for him to realize the voice was his.

She sank slowly to her knees, finally beginning to catch her breath, but he kept his hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles.  “I’m sorry,” he heard himself say.  “It was insensitive of me to tell you that...all of this is unfair to you…”

She let out a shaky sigh and then she murmured words that finally let him in.

“I just want to go home.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brady’s voice jerked him toward the side of the bed, but it wasn’t the little boy he knew.  In his place stood a toddler. Max. The child he had only seen in passing that last night in Manhattan. “Mistuh Ed,” he repeated, “why you hurting my mom?”
> 
> “I don’t know,” he answered tearfully.  “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the comments! Your thoughts keep me writing and are so very much appreciated!

“That smells fantastic.”  Rafael rounded the corner into the small commercial kitchen of the coffee shop.  Vanessa had been baking pumpkin bread this morning, as well as fresh apple cake, and the whole store smelled like fall.  He helped himself to a piece and then picked up the tray to take to the front.  “People really seem to like the decorating you’ve done.”

She smiled despite herself.  “Thanks.  I enjoyed doing it.  I’m thinking it might be something we consider year round.”  She had spent the afternoon before prepping the store with fall and non-scary Halloween decorations.  There was even a cozy kid’s corner where children could read or play with a small variety of toys while their parents enjoyed coffee and a treat, and she had taken the time to add some fall- and Halloween-themed children’s books.  She had to admit, while she missed profiling tremendously, using her creative side was satisfying.  And Rafael was flexible with her, often letting her set the environment of the shop in any way she chose.  The addition of a small children’s area had been a big hit, and they were both hoping it would be even more successful during tourist season.

“I’m certainly open to that,” he responded.  “You’re the creative one--I just grind the coffee and crunch the books.”  

She watched him carry the tray into the front of the store, then continued in frosting cookies.  

It had only been a couple of weeks since she had made the admission to him how painful it was to be away from home.  She knew he felt the same way but it did no good to talk of it; discussion wouldn’t get them home any faster.  She also knew he felt incredibly guilty about the entire thing.  She was nothing if not as good at reading people as he was.  Most of the time she wished he would just forgive himself, but in moments of intense grief, she sometimes hated him for it.  

She put down one cookie and started another.  Max loved sugar cookies just like this, and she wondered what he was doing right in this moment.  Was he with Sally, his nanny?  At the park or the library?  Did Bobby ever give him sugar cookies?  Were those still his favorite?

She knew Max was safe with Bobby.  He had been a detective for years before leaving NYPD and joining the FBI.  He was quirky, maybe, and difficult to have a relationship with, but he loved his son and was skilled in all kinds of self-defense maneuvers.  At least there was that.

She was finally feeling strong enough to suggest that they host a simple Halloween party for families this year.  Physically, she was fully recovered and emotionally, she wasn’t as triggered spending time with the little ones who came into the shop with their parents.  They would offer a simple menu, have a few crafts and games, and give away lots of candy.  Rafael’s eyes had gotten wide, then rolled before he had sighed and said, “Okay I guess.  But you know I’m not really a kid person.”  She had reminded him of his new best friend Brady, to which he scoffed and replied, “He just likes playing with me.  I don’t want to disappoint him.  I’m not a complete monster, you know.”

It had turned out that Brady’s mom, Dina, was okay.  She had lost her footing on the stool and hit her head on a shelf as she fell, resulting in a mild concussion.  Despite the fact that the incident had turned out to be relatively minor, Dina and her husband Rob had made it their business to take Ed and Liz under their wing.  One or the other stopped in to the shop for coffee nearly every day, and Dina had brought them dinner and cookies on at least three occasions.  Despite his initial reluctance in forming any kind of friendship, Rafael wasn’t about to turn down free cookies.  And they were good, too.  

Vanessa finished frosting the cookies and carefully wrapped them, pulling two aside for later.  No matter what Rafael said about children, she knew his new buddy Brady would be around later, and sharing a cookie or two always strengthened a friendship, at least in her experience.

************************************************

“You’re wearing THAT?”

Rafael looked up from the bed where he was fiddling with a lavender polo shirt.  “Um, yes?  What’s wrong with it?”

Vanessa crossed her arms.  “It’s Halloween and you’re going as...let me guess...yourself?”

“Well, I could go as my old self if you’d prefer.”  He held the shirt up, checking it for wrinkles.  “But that’s as close as you’re going to get me to a costume.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said indignantly.  “It’s halloween, and we agreed to do this for the community kids.  Will it kill you to pretend for a few hours you’re actually capable of having some fun?”

“Hey!”  He laid the shirt back down on the bed and shot her a glare.  “I’ll have you know that I am a LOT of fun.  Incredibly fun.  In fact, I seem to recall SOMEBODY having quite a bit of fun with me last night!.  Just because I don’t want to embrace my inner three-year old doesn’t mean I’m boring!”

“Oh yes it does!”  She moved toward the closet and started rummaging through his shirts.  “It is not going to hurt you to dress appropriately for this.”  She pulled out a long-sleeved button down white shirt.  “It’s two hours, Rafael.  Suck it up.  Would you rather be a pirate or a friendly ghost?”

He scowled at her as he caught the shirt she threw at him.  “Fine,” he huffed, opening his pants drawer and grabbing a pair of black jeans.  “Pirate.  But so help me God, if anyone laughs at me, you’re gonna do the dishes for a month.”

She snorted.  “Right, Dad.  You’re gonna be just fine.  Here.”  And she handed him a red bandanna.  “Make it work.”

************************************

The party was running smoothly, and they were making a nice profit on coffee and treats.  Families meandered in, out, and about as their little ones ate candy, played games, and made simple crafts.  

Rafael tried not to feel like an idiot dressed as a B-rate Johnny Depp and threw himself into serving his customers.  Vanessa had been right; almost everyone there was in costume, including the adults.  Vanessa herself was dressed as a version of Wonder Woman, with a red tank top emblazoned with the logo, jeans, and a lasso at her hip.  She even had the silver bracelets, red boots, and a gold crown.  She looked good.  Great, in fact.  Attractive, even.

She was flushed from the busy atmosphere and smiling what looked to be a genuine smile as she worked the room, chatting with parents and children alike, and offering candy to anyone interested.  There was something soft about her, not just physically, but in the way that she moved and interacted. Open, vulnerable.   He wondered how long she had looked like this, if he was only seeing it now because they were sleeping together. For a moment he imagined what it would be like to really be a husband, to have the privilege and the welcome to wrap his arm around her in public, or hold her hand, or kiss her cheek without it being an act.  And then she turned and caught his eye, and he smiled, winked, and turned back to serving coffee.

*****************************************

She was sitting on the bed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, lotioning her hands.  “I think it went well,” she told him.  “Everyone seemed to have a good time.”

“Well, Wonder Woman pulled it off,” he teased, rounding his corner of the bed, then plopping down on the mattress against his pillows.  “She worked her magic.”

“Yes she did.”  Vanessa climbed under the covers, then reached to turn her light out.  “I think that pirate guy worked pretty hard too.’

“Hmm.”  He flipped off the light on his side of the bed and climbed in as well.  “Did you go trick or treating as a kid?”

“Yeah.  Every year.  My mom made all our costumes, but she couldn’t sew, so we always looked like ragamuffins.  I never had a store costume.”

“Continuing the tradition huh?” he chuckled.  “You know the real Wonder Woman wore that bodysuit.”

She snorted.  “I thought we agreed the costumes weren’t supposed to be scary.”

“Ha.  Our forties are not always our friend.”  They both laughed for a second, then he said, “It wouldn’t have been scary.”

There was an awkward silence, then she sighed.  “Anyway.  Goodnight.”

He rolled over to face her.  In the shadows, he could make out her silhouette.  She was still lying on her back, arms folded over her stomach.  He leaned over, gently kissing her cheek, before opening his arms.  She glanced at him, smiled, and slid against his body.   “Goodnight, Vanessa,” he murmured, running a hand against her arm.  “ I hope you sleep well.”

****************************************

Liv’s body was hot against his, flesh covered with goosebumps as he moved slowly inside of her.  He could feel her nails scratching his back.  “Faster.  Harder,” she commanded, and pulled his face down to kiss him deeply, tangling her tongue with his as he thrust hard inside of her, determined to bring her to the edge before he made it himself.

“Like that?” he growled deep in his throat.  “You like that?  You like it when I fuck you hard?”  

She yanked his hair and bit his lip.  “Yes,” she panted.  “More!”

He leaned down, biting her shoulder sharply, and grabbed a handful of her hair, thrusting his hips frantically against hers.  Yanking, he felt her entire face give way and he froze, looking into his hand as he realized he was now holding a mask of Olivia’s face.  Shocked, he looked down at the woman he had pinned to the bed.  Vanessa’s eyes stared back at him, sharp.  “You’re hiding again,” she said softly.  “Always hiding.”

“Mistuh Ed.” Brady’s voice jerked him toward the side of the bed, but it wasn’t the little boy he knew.  In his place stood a toddler.  Max.  The child he had only seen in passing that last night in Manhattan.  “Mistuh Ed,” he repeated, “why you hurting my mom?”

“I don’t know,” he answered tearfully.  “I don’t know.  I’m sorry.”

And then Max fell away, and as Rafael opened his eyes, he realized he was shaking.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he thought hard enough about it, he could remember his last moments with her before he climbed into the US Marshall’s escalade.  She had been standing next to him, holding herself despite the warm, damp air. It wasn’t until he went to hug her that he realized she had tears in her eyes.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love kudos and comments--they are my life blood!

It was a quiet Sunday morning, early, and he decided he was going to take a run.  Slipping into his gear, he grabbed his running shoes and took them to the front room, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind him so Vanessa wouldn’t be disturbed.  Once he had his shoes on, he got his keys and headed out the door.

The street was silent at this time of day and the air chilly.  He started on the running path heading away from the store, setting a comfortable pace.  It was still dark outside and he lost himself in his thoughts.

He wondered what Liv was up to.  What was she doing at this moment? Probably a little early for Noah to be getting up, but she might be getting ready for work--showering, choosing her outfit for the day, doing her hair or makeup.  If he closed his eyes for a moment, he swore he could smell her perfume, picture the soft movement in her hair.  He had fantasized a million times about running his fingers through her hair, of kissing her slowly, gently, sexily.  He wondered if she was still angry with him.

If he thought hard enough about it, he could remember his last moments with her before he climbed into the US Marshall’s escalade.  She had been standing next to him, holding herself despite the warm, damp air.  It wasn’t until he went to hug her that he realized she had tears in her eyes.  He had reflected upon that often, wondering if she had cried because of his leaving or because of his fuckup.  At the time, he had wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly, murmuring, “Please take care of yourself, Liv...I’m so sorry.”  He had felt her shudder and nod in his arms.  He wondered even now if she had any idea that he loved her.  It had never been spoken between them, but she was his best friend, his confidante, one of the most important people in his life.  She had to know, at least subconsciously, that she meant the world to him.

Even the running was in part due to her.  He had picked it up again when he was trying to corner Rollins into testifying against her old captain.  He had stopped by the 16th before changing, and Liv had winked at him and commented, “Nice legs.”  He had smirked back and told her he was a work in progress.  Little did she know how much of a motivator she had been.

But he didn’t have that motivation now, and despite Vanessa’s company, there were times he felt alone, much as he had as a child.  While the sex went a long way toward making this situation less painful, the fact was that he and Rayden both were in a lot of emotional pain.  Some nights they told each other stories of their old lives, who they knew and what they had done and where they thought they were going.  Rayden had been willing to listen to him talk from time to time about his longing for home, but he could see when she checked out of the conversation.  She would withdraw into herself whenever something seemed to remind her of her son, so he tried to limit those conversations as much as he could.  And he reminded himself that while he was pining for a woman he had never even dated, she had lost a very real relationship with her child.  

They kept a calendar in the bedroom, and he counted the days they had been away.  Each night he crossed the day out on the calendar.  The one time that he forgot, she reminded him, then said, “It’s just one day less until we go home.”  In that moment he wanted to hug her, to hold her, to tell her they would both be okay, but he didn’t.  He knew her well enough now to know the vulnerability she had just shared would make her stiffen in his arms.  Internally he made a mental note to be kinder, more supportive of her.  

Checking his watch, he decided to turn around and head home.  It was just after six a.m. now, and Vanessa’s favorite donut place would be open now.  He’d stop and pick them up a couple.  If nothing else, he knew the surprise would make her smile.  It was the least he could do.

*****************************************

Vanessa was getting out of the shower when she heard him coming in.  Tossing on a clean tee-shirt and sweats, she headed toward the kitchen to meet him.  He was already making coffee and she saw a box of donuts next to him on the counter.  “Hey,” she greeted him.  “One for me?”

“You bet.”  He opened the box and handed it to her.  “I just got a variety, but your favorite is in there.”

“It is!” she exclaimed excitedly.  “I can’t believe you remembered!”

He snorted.  “Maple and bacon isn’t easy to forget.”

“So good,” she mumbled through a mouth full of donut.  “Thanks.”

A few minutes later they were seated at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and indulging in more donuts than they should while passing around the local paper.  She was always intrigued by what he read.  Because of their cover, he could no longer read law books and journals extensively, so he’d picked up several books about coffee and was making his way through them.  He highlighted items of interest, as though he were a student.  Highlighted.  She admired that tremendously.  Trust Barba to take his coffee seriously.

He also loved to read the local paper.  She had expected him to order the Wall Street Journal, but he had told her the local paper would help them bond with their customers.  She had just shrugged and agreed.  Then there were the cookbooks.  It had started with one cookbook that was already in the bungalow when they moved in; before she knew it, he had a small collection, each of which he had picked up secondhand at a thrift store.  He read the notes that had been made in them religiously, and once in awhile would read one out loud to her if he found it particularly funny or noteworthy.  

She appreciated him trying to keep her engaged.  Some days she could breathe easier, and that was generally when she was able to distract her thoughts about Max.  She tried to do the same for him.  He had never mentioned it, but she had the sneaking suspicion that he was missing Benson in a way in which she had previously been unaware.  On random nights, she had awoken hearing him call Liv’s name, and once when she woke up, he had been crying in his sleep and murmuring “Olivia”.  No matter what Barba and Benson’s relationship had been, it was clear to her that Barba was as lonely as she was, and missing someone important to him.

She glanced at him for a moment.  He was sporting a mustache and slight beard now, both of which he kept clipped short.  She hadn’t seen him in a suit in months, and she wondered if he missed that, too.  She had never realized, in New York, the physique he was hiding under his clothing.  Strong, large biceps that narrowed into large hands with long, tapered fingers.  Solid, muscular legs that connected to one of the hottest asses she’d ever seen, if she was honest.  And a soft but comfortable torso peppered heavily with brown and graying chest hair.  He was attractive for his age and quite comfortable with his body.  He never hesitated to dress or undress in front of her now, and she got the feeling that he wasn’t sure why she was still hesitant for him to see her nude.  Despite the fact he’d seen her naked every time they screwed, it still bothered her to think of him paying that close of attention.

She hadn’t had a relationship since she broke up with Bobby, when she was still pregnant with Max.  And once Max was born, there was no time or interest in sex.  But she couldn’t help the soft, nagging voice in her head about Rafael.  She didn’t know if the attraction was due to chemistry or if it was situational, but she supposed it didn’t matter.  If nothing else, he made her feel good and she did her best to return the favor.  It made life a lot more bearable, and to be honest, he was an amazing lover.

She suddenly realized Rafael was staring back, and she smiled.  “Sorry,” she said, “Just thinking.”

He grinned.  “Well, don’t hurt yourself.  You know that’s dangerous.”

“I’ll try to get it under control,” she snarked back before grabbing another donut and taking a bite.

*******************************************************

They had settled on the outside porch swing, wine in hand, to watch the sun go down.

“This never gets old,” he sighed as the sun began to sink into the ocean.  Taking another sip of his wine, he finished, “Silver lining in every cloud, I suppose.”

She was watching him again, like she had done this morning.  “I suppose,” she responded.

He felt the need to touch her, so  he reached over and stroked her arm gently.  “Hey,” he said softly, “thank you for making this easier for me.  I know you try.”

Vanessa’s eyes wandered over to his hand on her arm, but she didn’t push him away, instead she nodded.  “I know you do too.  Another X on the calendar in a couple hours, hmm?”

He finished his wine.  “Yeah.  I feel better seeing it too.”

Her eyes were still focused on him, as though she were trying to read his mind, then she put her wine glass down. Moving his arm to the back of the swing, she scooted closer to him until their sides were pressed against each other.  He wrapped his arm around her more snugly, squeezing, then pressed a quick kiss to her temple.  “We’re gonna be okay,” he said softly.  He felt her exhale and relax against him.

“Yeah,” she murmured.  “We will.  We have to be.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She snorted.  “I’m so glad you approve.”  She grew silent for a moment.  “Rafael, I am thankful for you.  I’m glad we have each other.”
> 
> He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then reached over to turn out the light. “Happy Thanksgiving, Vanessa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys again for the wonderful comments! You keep me focused on writing for these two!

She had just finished loading the washer when she heard the knock on the front door.  Rafael had stayed late at the shop, finishing up some bills, and he had a key.  Briefly she considered grabbing her gun, but then realized if it was somebody wanting to harm her, they probably wouldn’t knock.

Peering through the peephole, she saw Dina, Brady in hand, on her porch.  She opened the door and smiled.  “Hey you two,” she greeted, welcoming them in.  “How are things?”

Dina gave her a brief hug.  “Good!  Brady and I had something we wanted to ask you.  Right, Brady?”

The little boy nodded and grinned at her, then took a drink from his sippy cup.  Vanessa waved them into the den.  “Well have a seat...would you like a drink?  I have tea, water…”

Dina shook her head, pulling Brady onto her lap.  “Nope, we’re good.”  She looked down at her son, smiling, then said, “Brady, can you ask Ms. Liz our question?”

“Yep!”  He nodded exaggeratedly again, then looked around.  “Where’s Mistuh Ed?”

Vanessa smiled at him.  “He’s still at work right now, but he should be home soon.  Is there something you wanted to ask us?”

“Yes!” Brady said firmly.  “Momma and Daddy and me want you to tome to our house for Fanksgibben.  Do you wike tuhkey?  Momma’s gonna make a big tuhkey and she says it tastes better when we share.”

Vanessa hesitated.  “I love turkey, Brady.”  Turning to Dina, she asked, “Are you sure?  We don’t want to intrude or be any trouble…”

Dina reached over and squeezed her arm.  “Of course we’re sure.  I know Ed said your families aren’t nearby, and neither are ours.  We would love for you to join us.”  Looking sweetly at her son, she added, “It was Brady’s idea.  He loves you two.”

Vanessa felt her chest tighten for just a moment, before nodding.  “I’m sure we would both be honored.  Just let us know what to bring.”

*******************************************************

“So you told them yes?”

He was lying on his back on the bed, shirt off, as Vanessa sucked on  his neck and teased his nipples.  He was biting back a groan as his jeans were growing increasingly tight.  

She released his skin, then nipped him.  “Mmhmm.”  Licking over the mark, she added, “We’re bringing two sides and a dessert.”  Her fingers tangled in his chest hair and she tugged, then leaned down and licked into his mouth.  “I love your chest,” she mused, pulling back to watch as she played with his nipples again.  “It should be illegal for you to wear a shirt, especially at home.”

He rolled his eyes.  “If you say so.  As I said before, the forties are not always our friend.”

“Haha.”  She slid down his body, kissing his ribcage, then his stomach.  “You know you’re a very attractive man.  I’m surprised you haven’t allowed yourself to be snatched up yet.”

He ran his hands through her hair.  “I’ve never found anybody who could stand me enough, I guess.  And you know work...it’s just all-encompassing…”

She hummed.  “And of course there’s your feelings for Olivia.”

His hand stilled in her hair for a moment, then he continued his petting of her.  “What do you mean?  She’s a very close friend--”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”  She looked up into his eyes and not for the first time, he felt she could see right through him.   

He sighed softly, then replied, “Honestly, I don’t know.  I’m still sorting all that out myself.”

She nodded.  “I can understand that.  Have you ever told her how you feel?”

He shook his head.  “And risk losing that friendship?  Not a chance.”  He twisted her hair gently around his fingers.  “I’m not an idiot.”

She kissed his clothed thigh.  “You know, this between us?  It’s a coping mechanism.  When we get back to Manhattan, you should tell her how you feel.  Life is too short, you know?”

“I’ll consider it.”  He sought out her eyes.  “Hey,” he continued, “I just want you to know that no matter what does or doesn’t happen with either of us when we get back, I care about you.  And that won’t stop.”

She nodded again.  “Just as long as you understand that I won’t ever hold you back from what you want.  Or who you want.”  Her fingers ghosted over the crotch of his jeans.  “Want to?”

Smirking he asked, “Do I ever not want to?” Stroking her shoulder, he instructed, “Come on up here.  I want to kiss you.”

She moved up, laying on top of him.  “Please do.”  He slotted his lips against hers, ran his hands down to her ass, and squeezed.

*************************************************

“Question.  Can we eat dessert first?”

He’d been eyeing the pumpkin bars ever since she took them out of the oven.  “No,” she answered.  “And don’t try that in front of Brady.  Dina will kill you and I won’t stop her.”

Vanessa knocked at the door, and it opened almost immediately.  Brady stood in front of her, laughing, in a mismatched outfit of green sweatpants, a burgundy henley, and a bright yellow polarfleece vest.  “Yay!  Miss Wiz and Mistuh Ed are here, Mom!”  he yelled, jumping up and down.  “And dey bringed a dessert!”

Vanessa stifled a laugh and opened the door.  “Can we come in?”  Brady held the door for her and she and Rafael came inside.

“Hey!” Rob greeted them, taking the food.  ‘Come on in...we’re gonna be ready to eat in a few minutes.  Can I get you guys anything to drink?  Beer? Wine?”

“Wine would be great, thanks,” Rafael answered, shedding his coat.  “How about you, honey?”

Vanessa nodded.  “Wine for me also.  Where’s Dina?”

“This way.”  Rob led her toward the kitchen.  “Just finishing up dinner.  Let me put these down and I’ll get both of you a glass of wine.”

*************************************************

“That was an incredible meal, Dina,” Rafael said, leaning back on the couch.  For once he was missing his suspenders.  His belt was tight from overindulgence, but he rationalized it with the holiday.  Besides, he didn’t want to be a rude guest.

“Thanks, Ed,” Dina said.  “Liz and I put a couple of plates of leftovers together for you all.  Lord knows we can’t eat a sixteen pound turkey by ourselves!”

Vanessa took a seat next to Rafael.  “I’ll have to look up some new turkey recipes.” She nudged Rafael’s arm.  “Get creative.”

He smiled back at her and winked.  “This is gonna be fun.”

Rob laughed.  “You ever cook, Ed?  Or is it just Liz’s talents we enjoyed today?”

“Ed made the plantains,” Vanessa explained.  “Family recipe--traditional for his family on Thanksgiving.  Right, babe?”

Rafael was surprised she had remembered that.  For as long as he could remember, his abuelita had made plantains as part of their Thanksgiving meal.  He had cooked them alongside her for many years in her tiny kitchen, cutting and stirring and seasoning.  The memory was a comforting one.  When Vanessa had asked him to make a side dish, it hadn’t taken long to decide on plantains.  The difficulty was in hunting them down in town, but after several trips, he had found them.  “Yeah, that’s right.  It certainly brings back good memories.”

“Well they were fantastic,” Dina told him.  “Something I’ve never had before.  I love how family lives on through food.  So many good memories, you know?  Who taught you how to make them?”

He glanced at Vanessa, then said “My grandmother.  She was a fantastic cook.  We lost her a couple years ago, mid-December.”

Vanessa could hear the change in his tone, the tightness in his face.  She knew he had lost his grandmother, but hadn’t realized how close he had been to her until he started making the plantains.  He had told her several stories about Catalina as they had cooked, and Vanessa found herself reminded that, hidden from view, there was a compassionate, kind, and vulnerable man.  She reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently and felt him squeezing her hand back.  “Plantains are the next best thing to spending the holiday with my grandmother here.”

“Well,” Rob said, “I’m so glad you all were able to spend it with us this year, since you couldn’t be with your families.  I will always be so thankful for you.  Without you, I don’t know if Dina and Brady would still be here.”

“Yes,” Dina agreed.  “We have a lot to be thankful for.”

******************************************************************

She was on her hands and knees, middle of the mattress, facing the wall, and dammit if Rafael wasn’t taking his own sweet time.  His hands were holding onto her hips as he thrust firmly inside of her, only to pull back slowly and pause repeatedly.  She pressed her head into her forearm on the pillow.  “If you don’t speed this up, I’m gonna call it a day and buy a vibrator.”

He laughed.  “Oh please.  If you were me with this view, you wouldn’t be in any rush either.”

“God.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  “Don’t remind me.  I’m never doing it like this with the lights on again.”

He leaned forward and kissed her back.  “Yes you will.  It feels good and looks even better, and I’m gonna make it worth your while.”  He ran his hands over her ass, then squeezed her hips again.  “I can’t wait to watch you climax again.  I think it’s my favorite part.”

“Jesus.”  She reached between her legs to rub her clit.  “You’re making me sexually frustrated, Rafael.”

He chuckled softly.  “All right, all right.  I’ll pick up the pace.  But don’t blame me if it ends pretty quickly after this.”  Pulling back, he thrust his hips forward firmly, and began a strong, quick rhythm.  “If you don’t mind, though, let me get you off?  Trust me?”

“Yes, okay.  Fine.”  She moved her hand back to the bed and felt his hand tangle in her hair, and he gently tilted her head to the side, baring her neck.  She felt his warm breath, then his tongue licking the skin of her neck, then his teeth were nipping on her earlobe.  

“Next time, this happens in front of a mirror,” he told her.  “I want you to watch too.  I wanna watch you watch.”  He felt her breath hitch, and knew the idea was exciting to her.  “You like that idea, huh?”

She pushed her hips back, following his rhythm.  “Maybe.  Maybe you just talk too much in bed.”

He snapped his hips in response.  “Maybe I do, but I’m pretty sure you’re a fan.”  He kissed her shoulder.  “Hold on.  I”m gonna pull you up, into my lap, all right?” 

“You’re a freaking circus performer, you know that?” she gasped, and he internally patted himself on the shoulder. She was close--he could tell by her breathing and her repeated attempts to grind against him more fully. “Okay,” she agreed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist before gently pulling her up, still facing forward and fully sheathing his cock.  One of her arms immediately reached back, around him, tangling in his sweaty hair while her other hand clutched his against her stomach.  “That’s it,” he murmured before pressing his lips to her neck again, sucking.  From this position he could reach every part of her body, and he intended to make good use of it.   His thrusts were deep and firm, and she was grinding down against him every time he thrust upward.  He felt heady, surrounded by the feel and touch and taste of her, of the scent of their arousal.  With the hand he wasn’t holding, he tweaked a nipple, gently pulling and rolling as he sucked harder on her neck.  She was moaning now, and they moved in tandem, blissfully coordinated for a few pleasurable moments.  He found himself wishing for that mirror, for the ability to see her face, to see proof of how good she felt with him.  He already knew how good he felt with her.  She was one of the best lovers he’d ever had, and he was hellbent on letting her know.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he began, speaking quietly next to her ear.  “One of these days I’m gonna get your legs over my shoulders and bury myself so deep in you.”  Her fingers were still entangled with his on her stomach, and he squeezed her hand.  “I love this.  Love being inside you.  Love fucking you.  Want to watch you come, honey.  One of the most gorgeous things i’ve ever seen, when you come.”  Her moan had disintegrated to a near whine, and he slid his fingers gently over her clit, circling and tapping in rhythm.  “Nessa, so good.  My God, you’re drenched.  Come, baby...come on for me.  Come on, sweetheart.”

She keened, pressing the back of her head on his shoulder, and he could feel her orgasm.  He fucked her through it, kissing her temple, before allowing himself a few harder, more erratic thrusts.  He came hard, his chest pressed tight against her back, still clutching her body.  Resting his head on her shoulder, he attempted to catch his breath and heard her doing the same before she turned her head and pressed her lips to his ear.

He lifted his head for a moment, meeting her eyes, before leaning in gently and kissing her on the mouth.  Slow, delicate.  The kind of kiss he always saved for lovers he truly cared about.  Her lips moved against him, delicately sucking on his bottom lip, and he wondered if she was feeling the same way he was.  Like this was intimate, special.  Like this was more than just sex.

 After a minute, she moved off of him, then leaned over to grab her panties.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was in a tee shirt and panties, reclining in the bed.  Her hair was a mess and she was beautifully flushed and he wanted a do-over immediately.

“You’ve got that look,” she said suspiciously.  “Don’t get any bright ideas.”

He slid into bed, chuckling.  “Don’t worry.  I’m well aware I’m not twenty anymore.”  He reached for her, and she snuggled up immediately, head on his chest.  “You know, I’m thankful for you.  For this.  You’re such a giving partner, and honestly, this is keeping me sane.”

She was stroking his chest hair, occasionally giving a slight tug.  “Ditto,” she replied softly.  “I guess if we had to end up in witness protection, you’re a decent person to end up with.”

“Why, Dr. Rayden,” he teased, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

She laughed and kissed his nipple.  “Plus, your chest is ridiculously hot.”

He laughed with her.  “Yeah, yours isn’t half bad either.”

She snorted.  “I’m so glad you approve.”  She grew silent for a moment.  “Rafael, I am thankful for you.  I’m glad we have each other.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then reached over to turn out the light. “Happy Thanksgiving, Vanessa.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anniversary of Catalina's death hits Rafael hard, but this time he has someone to lean on.

_ Walking in a winter wonderland… _

Vanessa was singing along with the Christmas music as she finished up the Christmas tree they had purchased the day before.  For whatever reason, the impending holiday seemed to be hanging over each of them pretty heavily, so she had suggested to Rafael the day before that they put up some Christmas decorations.  After all, it’s what she was pretty sure Ed and Liz would do, and since they were supposed to be Ed and Liz…

Rafael had hesitantly agreed, and they had purchased a small live tree, a few strands of lights, and a couple boxes of ornaments.  She had found a simple nativity set at the Christmas store, and added that as well.  “Anything else?” she had asked him, and he stood next to her, arms crossed, looking thoughtful.

“Stockings,” he finally answered with a quick nod.  “We each need one.”

So they had picked out two simple stockings, mainly to humor him.

She had tried to engage him with the tree, and it had worked for a little while.  He had helped her set it up and string the lights, then set up the Nativity on the fireplace mantle.  But when she had started to hang the ornaments, he disappeared into the back of the bungalow, returning several minutes later with a jacket.  “I’m going to go for a run,” he announced, then corrected, “Well actually, probably more of a walk, but you get the idea.”

She had stopped for a moment and looked at him.  He was wearing it on his face, the loneliness and depression he was feeling.  She wanted to hold him, to assure him they would make it through and be okay and this was only temporary, but she knew herself too well.  If she did that right now, she’d burst into tears, and he quite likely would, too.

“Okay.”  She attached a hook to the ornament in her hand.  “Dinner will be ready in about an hour, just FYI.”

He nodded and moved to the door, then suddenly stopped, turned back to her, and leaned over to kiss her cheek.  “I’ll be back by then.  I can help with this too when I get back, if you want.”

She had smiled gently at him.  “Whatever is best for you is fine with me.”

And with that, he was gone.

It was just shy of an hour since he left, and he still hadn’t returned.  She stopped hanging ornaments and decided to step out on the porch to see if he was anywhere nearby.  

She saw him immediately, sitting in the sand by the shore.  It appeared as if he were watching the ocean, and she suddenly felt something inside her soul ache.  There was something more going on here than just their typical loneliness.  She grabbed her jacket and headed across the sand to him.

She stopped just shy of reaching him, trying to figure out what she was going to say, or even if she should interrupt him.  But before she could go back to the house, he had turned his head partway.  “Hey,” he greeted, then patted the sand next to him.  “Want to sit?”

She moved next to him and sat in the sand, her knee touching his.  She tangled her left hand into his right.  “You want to talk about it?”

He sighed heavily, then wiped at his eyes with his empty hand, and she realized he had been crying.  “Two years ago today, my grandmother died.  I don’t know how much you may have heard about that, but she was a huge part of my life.  She had gotten to the point that she couldn’t live independently anymore.  I thought she should be in an assisted living facility.  She didn’t.  My mother didn’t know what to choose.”  He sighed again, shakily, as his voice broke quietly.  “We had started to pack her things for the move.  She died before we could move her.”

She let go of his hand and moved it to his back, stroking gently.  “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“She didn’t want to move,” he said, voice raw with emotion.  “She said she wanted to die in her own home.  I hastened that.  And I live with that every single day.”  He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head on them, hiding his face from her.  “And now I’ve left my mother alone too.  We were the two people she loved most in the world.  And now Abuelita is gone and so am I, and my mom…” 

She continued stroking his back as his body shook with silent tears.  After a moment, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around him completely, squeezing him firmly, rocking him back and forth, and his tears turned into soft sobs.  “I miss both of them every day. I feel like I killed my grandmother as sure as if I had taken her medications that kept her alive.  I ended it for her.   I hate living with what I did.”

“Baby,” she murmured into his ear, “you did nothing wrong.  You were trying to help in a really difficult situation.  And if I know anything about you, it’s that you’re a good man.  If I know what a good man you are, your grandmother surely knew.  She surely  _ knows _ .  Your mother, too.”

He let himself be held, comforted in her arms, for a few minutes.  “Thank you,” he whispered a few moments later.  “Sometimes I feel like I’m about to shatter.  In the really bad moments I wish I would.”

She pulled her head back and stroked his hair.  “Look at me, honey.”  He lifted his head, raising his teary eyes to her face.  “Will you let me take care of you tonight?  Just comfort you?  You’re grieving and I want to help.”

He was shaking his head no before she had even finished speaking.  “I don’t want you to have to deal with me like this.  It’s not fair--”

“I’m not worried about fair,” she told him.  “I’m worried about you.”  She stood up, then held out her hand.  “Come on, dinner is ready.  After that I’ll draw you a bath and we can check out Netflix if you want.”

He tried to return her smile and took her hand.  Standing, he told her, “Thanks.  Thanks for just...being you.”

She wrapped an arm around his waist.  “We’re gonna be okay,” she told him.  “We have to be, remember?.”

**********************************************

They were in the bathtub, Rafael’s back pressed against Vanessa’s chest.  One of his hands was stroking her knee gently, and she had an arm wrapped loosely around his chest.  Her fingers were running back and forth through his chest hair slowly.

“So,” she began, “tell me your best memory of her.”

She could practically hear him smile as he relaxed against her, head on her shoulder.  “When I was eight or nine, I had a really bad case of the flu.  Mami had it too and couldn’t take care of both of us, and of course my dad was no help.  So I spent a couple weeks at their place.”  He paused, then glanced back at her.  “She took care of me.  In every way.  She fed me and dressed me, let me watch whatever TV I wanted.  She sang to me and read with me.  She even let me bake cookies with her once I was feeling better.  And she kissed me goodnight every night and told me how precious I was.  Nobody had ever taken care of me like that before.”  His fingers caught hers, linking together.  “I actually feigned illness for three extra days before they caught on that my fever was gone.”

She kissed the back of his head.  “I can imagine how precious you must have been to her.”

He laughed softly.  “Yeah.  I was pretty isolated as a kid, no siblings and my parents certainly didn’t do a lot with me.  But she always made me feel...special.  She used to tell me I was special.”

Vanessa rubbed his chest.  “Every kid needs somebody like that.”

“Yeah.”  He looked back at her again, then reached up to touch her hair.  “Every adult, too.”

She caught his hand and kissed it.

**********************************************

“Lay down,” she told him.  She had just finished toweling him off, something he thought must be the epitome of pampering.  He certainly could dry himself, but she had ignored him and gently rubbed him down before drying off herself.

He followed her direction and lay down naked on his side of the bed.  He felt calmer, more at peace than he had in several days.  She lay down next to him, propping her head up on one elbow and looking into his eyes.  Her other hand gently stroked down his face.  “What would feel good tonight?  How can I take care of you?”

“You already have,” he said softly, catching her hand and kissing it again.  “You’ve done more for me than anyone in a long, long time.”

She kissed him then, but instead of the sexy, passionate kiss he was expecting, she brushed her lips over his gently, tugging slowly at his bottom lip with her teeth.  She took her time at last, finally exploring his mouth slowly.  He wrapped one hand in her hair, and the other around her waist.  When they separated a moment later, he whispered, “I’m so lucky you’re here.”  She could see his eyes filling with tears again, and leaned over to kiss under each one.  A moment after that, she ghosted over his lips again before gently sliding down his body and starting to kiss his neck and shoulders.

He breathed deeply and closed his eyes as he felt her take one of his nipples into her mouth and suck.  He knew she had figured out how much he enjoyed nipple play, and he relaxed, feeling pleasure shoot through his body from his nipple straight to his cock.  Her other hand was stroking his chest hair, occasionally tugging gently, and he wrapped a hand in her hair.  “Vanessa,” he murmured softly, “you don’t have to do this.”

She stopped and looked up at him, “Rafael, believe me, this isn’t a chore.  Besides, there is nothing wrong with you feeling better, feeling distracted, feeling cared for.  I want that for you, okay?”

He nodded, then relaxed against her.  Her mouth moved off of his nipple, over his chest slowly, kissing and laving, and her fingers stroked the hot skin of his chest and belly, mouth not far behind.  She nipped at his belly button, then circled it with her tongue, before finally licking down to his hipbone and pressing a kiss there.  He was half hard, but she ignored his cock and moved to his inner thigh, where she took her time licking and marking him.  

After a few moments, he realized he still had a hand tangled in her hair, so he released it.  He kept his eyes focused on her, watching her closely as she crossed over to the other thigh, sucking and licking and nipping, and he heard a soft moan escape his own throat.  

For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to have someone comfort him when he needed it, for the rest of his life, and what it would be like to comfort someone else.  Could he do it?  Make room in his life and his heart?  Would he have paid attention if it was her, noticed the pain she was in, tried to make it better?

She was gently fondling his balls now, cupping them and massaging slowly, and when he moaned this time, she said softly, “Does that feel good?  Do you like that?”

“Yes,” he responded, then traced the side of her face with his thumb.  “I love being with you like this.” His voice caught for a second.  “You treat me like I’m precious, too.”

Her eyes met his, and after a moment, she replied, “You are, Rafael.”  Smiling and flushed, she leaned down to take him into her mouth.

He was determined to watch her.  She was beautiful like this, lips stretched to envelop him, head moving up and down to increase his pleasure.  He watched as she slid up him, then took a moment to suck just the head.  She tongued his slit, and he reached for her hair again, gently pushing it out of the way.  “Like that,” he whispered to her, trying to keep his hips still, “just like that, sweetheart.  You make me feel so good.  So, so good.”  He could feel her other hand massaging his balls gently, and she began to take him deep again.  “Wait,” he interrupted her.  

She stopped for a moment and took a breath.  “Are you okay?” she asked, worry spreading over her features.

“Yeah,” he answered, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed.  “I, uh, I was wondering if...would you be okay to finger me?”

She kissed his knee.  “Of course...hand me the lube?”

He opened the nightstand next to him and handed her the bottle.  She squeezed a bit onto her fingers before rubbing them together to warm it up.  “You’re gonna need to guide me here,” she told him.  “I may have come across as a kinky expert last time, but trust me, that was just a ruse.”

That got a chuckle out of him and he relaxed again.  “Okay.  Just start with one and we’ll see where we go from there.”

“You got it.”  She gently pulled his cock toward her mouth and encompassed the head once again, before pressing an index finger at his entrance.  And God, did it feel good.

“Okay, gentle,” he directed her, and as his body relaxed against her, she pressed it in, and he moaned.  She began to rub in small circles as she continued to suck the head, and he let his body delve into the pleasure of it all. 

“Ready for another?” she asked, and he nodded as she slowly inserted a second finger next to the first.  Her tongue traced up and down his cock, then began to lick his balls.  He wrapped his own fist around his length, slowly tugging repeatedly as her fingers began to scissor him, stretching him, and he arched his back as she accidentally ran her fingers over his prostate.

Even if she had missed the arching, she couldn’t miss the moan that escaped him, and she asked, “Was that it?  Did I hit your prostate?”

“Yes.”  He closed his eyes, trying to relax and hold back his impending orgasm.  Jesus but it didn’t take long like this.

“I want to do it again,” she told him.  “Guide me to it...I think it was right about here--”

“God!” he gasped, arching and fucking into his own fist.  “Yes, yes, yes.  That’s it.  Right there.  Oh good Jesus.”  She was watching him aptly now, a look of concentration on her face, as she gently, repeatedly, ran her finger over his prostate.  His hand was moving furiously on his cock, and he didn’t know if it felt better arching up into his fist or back down onto her fingers.  She didn’t stop, though, and he realized what he thought he was saying must sound like complete gibberish.  He could barely make out his own words, until he gasped, “Please, Nessie, please...gonna come.  Please…”

She grasped the base of his cock with her empty hand, pushing his fist off, and quickly enveloped the head in her mouth, sucking furiously.  She could hear his high pitched moans and instinctively knew this was intense, and he was incredibly vulnerable at this moment.  He was trusting her with all of him, if just for this moment, and she found it beautiful and humbling.

When he came a moment later, she swallowed his semen as best she could, and when he whined from sensitivity she slid her fingers out of him slowly and gently.  He rolled to his side, sweating and shuddering, and she ran a hand over his hip before going to the bathroom to wash her hands.

He was still on his side, breathing heavily, when she returned.  She slid into bed next to him, and without a word, pulled him against her body.  His head settled on her chest, and she wrapped her arms around him, a hand still stroking his back.  She could feel when his tears started again a few minutes later, but she didn’t say anything.  She just pulled him closer, rubbing his back, until they both drifted off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But now he heard it, a low-pitched moan, and it seemed to be coming from their bedroom.  Vanessa had lay down for a nap awhile before, so he was pretty sure it was her, and the ideas of what she might be doing sent a shiver down his spine.  He decided to check it out, and if he was interrupting something, he’d either leave or hopefully be invited to stay. He could take that risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much--I am thrilled with all the hits, kudos, and commentary. And now, onward and upward!

Rafael was pouring his coffee when he first heard it.

It was Christmas Eve and a once again, rainy afternoon.  The shop was closed for the holiday, and he had spent the morning doing his best to shop for a couple of surprises for Ed to give to Liz.  It had taken him awhile to figure out what to give to a wife who isn’t really your wife, but he was fairly satisfied with his final choices.  He had picked up a few things that he knew she wanted for around the house as well as a pretty tennis bracelet.  And he had ordered lingerie, but that gift was coming from him to Vanessa.

He’d never bought lingerie for a lover before without her choosing it in advance.  They never really talked about it, but he got the feeling she was self conscious about her body, and he was hoping this would send a message once and for all that she needn’t be.  It was a tasteful but sexy piece, a black lace negligee with underwire and a matching panty.  He grinned to himself every time he thought about it, because he knew it’d be a present for himself, too.

But now he heard it, a low-pitched moan, and it seemed to be coming from their bedroom.  Vanessa had lay down for a nap awhile before, so he was pretty sure it was her, and the ideas of what she might be doing sent a shiver down his spine.  He decided to check it out, and if he was interrupting something, he’d either leave or hopefully be invited to stay.  He could take that risk.

Slowly he opened the door.  Vanessa was sprawled out on the bed, fully dressed, face pressed into a pillow.  She was crying, and his first instinct was to bolt.

But he didn’t.  Instead, he stood there for a couple of minutes before approaching the bed and sitting next to her.  “Hey,” he said softly, stroking her arm, “you okay?”

Her breath caught in her throat, and suddenly she was pressing her face against his thigh and clutching him desperately.  The sobs overtook every other sound, and he reached out to pull her up and hold her.  Her fingers curled around his shirt as he rocked her.  “Sshh,” he murmured.  “It’s going to be okay.  You’ll see him again.  I promise.  I promise, Nessie.  It’s going to be okay.”

She buried her face in his chest and shuddered, and he sat still, comforting her, as her tears wet his shirt.

***************************************************

“Tell me about him.”

They were in the kitchen, baking cookies for dessert for tonight and tomorrow.  Making gingerbread this late in the game was definitely a team effort, but he didn’t mind.  Neither did she.

She hesitated for a second.  “Um, well...he’s two.”

“What does he like to do?”

“Oh, a lot of things.  If he were here, he’d be all over this dough,” she laughed to herself, as if conjuring up a past memory.  “He loves to help in the kitchen.  He has a little stool that we pull up to the counter so he can see what’s going on.  He loves to stir.  He’s definitely mastered the stirring.  And the taste testing,” she added as Rafael tried to sneak a bite of dough without her noticing.

“Kid has priorities in order, I see.”  This time he blatantly took a small piece of dough and ate it, smirking at her as a dare to stop him.  “Where does he like to go?”

She snorted.  “Wherever I go, or wherever his daddy goes.  He thinks Bobby hung the moon, pretty much.  There’s nowhere more fun to be than with his dad, according to Max.”

Rafael rolled out the dough, then assembled the cookie cutters.  “Do you take him to museums and parks and stuff?”

“Some stuff.  He loves the park.  Anywhere he can run around is a good place as far as he’s concerned.  But he also likes going to the store.  HIs favorite place lately has been the zoo...but that may have changed,” she corrected herself, then sighed.  “I just miss him so much, you know?  He’s my whole world.”

Rafael nodded.  “I can see that.”  He got out of the way so that she could cut the cookies.  “Do you read to him and all that kind of thing?”

She chuckled at his awkward phrasing.  “Yeah, all that kind of thing.  Every night when I get home, we wash up, have dinner, then he takes a bath.  After bathtime we play a little, then I get him settled in his bed.  He picks two books he wants to read, and we read those, and then there’s a lullaby I sing him every night.  I’ve been insanely fortunate so far that his sleep cycle is an easy one and he’s always been an easy napper.  Some kids fight it like crazy, but he’s good about it.”

Rafael was moving the cut cookies to the baking tray carefully.  “Does he like gingerbread?  Do you make these with him?”

She laughed softly.  “No.  His favorite is sugar cookies with frosting.  But we don’t make them too often--the sugar makes him absolutely manic.”  She watched as Rafael ate yet another piece of dough.  “I’m sure you know nothing about that.”

“Nope, not a thing.”  He watched as she put the cookies in the oven.  “When we get back, I’d like to meet him...if that’s okay.  Hey, if you guys are up to it, I could go with you to the zoo or something.”  He tossed a couple of pieces of silverware into the sink.  “Kids can talk at two, right?”

Vanessa eyed him skeptically.  “Have you ever spent any time around a two-year old?  And don’t lie.”

He crossed his arms in front of himself.  “Va-ness-ah,” he said, dragging her name out.  “I don’t live in a bubble.  Of course I’ve been around two-year olds before.  Some.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I have!  A few times.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay.  I was in the same room.  But everybody’s got to start somewhere, right?”

She was smirking, despite herself.  “I guess that’s true.  And yes, he talks.  Not a lot or anything, but yes.  He talks and he walks and he laughs and he makes me laugh.”  She got quiet suddenly again, and he dropped his arms to his sides and took a step closer to her.  “I miss him.  This is the first Christmas that he really will understand a bit about Christmas--Santa Claus and Jesus and all that stuff.  And I’m missing it.  I don’t know how I’ll ever make that up to him.”

He took another step toward her, then stroked her cheek.  “I’m so sorry, Ness.  I don’t know how I’ll ever make this up to YOU, but I swear I’m going to try.”

She met his eyes then, focused, and didn’t look away.  “I don’t blame you anymore, Rafael.  You should have been honest, but you had no idea this would happen.  And I know you’re sorry.  But I hope you can forgive yourself so we both can move forward.”

He pressed a hand gently to either side of her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.  She was still looking into his eyes, and he suddenly knew she was being truthful.  She wasn’t angry like she had been.  Just sad.  He leaned forward and kissed her gently, brushing his lips against hers once, then again, before resting their foreheads together.  “I’ll try.  I don’t deserve the grace you’re giving here, but I’ll try to make it worth your while.”

She wrapped her arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around her, and they stood together, rocking gently, until she said, “I meant what I said the other night.  You are precious.  Your grandmother saw the real you.  And when you let me see you, I feel so very lucky.”

He didn’t look at her.  He couldn’t.  He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.  The tears were welling in his eyes and his heart was pounding so quickly.  Instead of speaking, he squeezed her more tightly, pressed kisses into her hair slowly, and prayed that she understood what he couldn’t put into words in this moment.

Then the buzzer went off, and they separated slowly, before Vanessa picked up an oven mitt to take out the cookies.

*************************************************

“I can’t believe you did all this!”  They were sitting on the floor next to their Christmas tree, preparing to open a gift from each other.  Hot toddies in hand and cookies on the coffee table, Vanessa picked up a package that Rafael didn’t recognize.  “I didn’t get as many for you, but i want you to open this one tonight.”

He grinned and took it from her.  “I feel like I’m five again,” he laughed, shaking the package.  The box was rectangular and looked like a shirt box, but he couldn’t be sure.  “You know, you could open yours first if you wanted…”

She took a sip of her drink, then shook her head.  “Nope.  I’m good.  You’re first.”

“Okay.”  He slid his fingers under the tape on the wrapping, pulling it apart from the box.  Once it was unwrapped, he opened the box.  

Inside, there were twelve pairs of socks, each depicting something from a holiday.  Holiday socks.  She got him twelve pairs of holiday socks.  January’s were covered with party hats, balloons, and streamers.  February’s were black with hot pink lips all over them.  March, a leprechaun sitting on a pot of gold.  He laughed out loud delightedly.  He couldn’t help it.  Shaking his head, he said, “This is awesome. I have missed my socks so much!  How did you know?  Did I mention it?”

She snorted.  “No, you didn’t say anything, but I kind of had a feeling.  If you don’t like them, we can exchange them--”

“Not on your life,” he said quickly, holding up the Christmas socks.  They were powder blue with snowmen around a Christmas tree.  “I can honestly say this is the dorkiest gift I’ve ever received and I am living for it right now!”

Now she laughed and nudged his arm.  “Apparently you’re quite easy to please.  My turn?”

He suddenly looked up.  “Oh right, yeah...hang on.”  He grabbed the box he had sitting next to him.  Smirking, he handed it to her.  “For you.”

She grinned back.  “I’m a little afraid now, seeing you smirk like that.”

“Well, you should probably always trust your gut.”

She didn’t bother with neatness and just ripped the paper right off the package.  Pulling off the lid, she stilled, then picked up the lacy negligee with one hand.  Looking at him, she said, “Really?”

“Mmhmm.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she picked up the panty.  “You know these aren’t magic, right?  I mean, it’s still gonna be me in this outfit here.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Yes.  I was counting on that part.”  He put down his sock box and reached over to cup her chin.  “In case it’s gotten past you, I happen to think you’re incredibly sexy.  Beautiful.  You turn me on.  And yes, I want to see everything showcased in this.  You can call me a pervert if you want, but honestly? I want you to feel as sexy as I think you are.”

She was staring at him, still holding the negligee.  He continued to stare back, but dropped his hand from her chin.  After a moment, she sighed.  “Well, hand over the underwear.  I’m gonna need it if I’m gonna put this on.”

Grinning, he handed them over.  “You bet.  If I close the blinds will you give me a show out here?”

“You’re pushing it, Barba.”  Standing up, she regarded him once more.  “Okay.  This once because it’s Christmas.  But don’t make me regret it.”

***************************************************        

She wrapped her legs more tightly around him and sighed.  “Merry Christmas, Rafael...I think you win on the best gift.”

It had taken her longer to put the negligee on than it had taken him to get her out of it.  She had to admit that the underwire had made her boobs look much sexier, and the rest of the short lace nightie had skimmed over her body, making her stomach less noticeable and her hips more slender.  It had a hook in the front, held together by a bow between her breasts, and Rafael had untied it with such ease she was pretty damn sure he had practiced beforehand.

“You are undeniably beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, moving slowly inside of her.  His mouth continued to suck gently at her neck, teeth nipping at her ear.  He was determined to take his time this time.  A Christmas gift for them both.

When she had come out of the bedroom, she was lovelier than he had imagined.  Cheeks flushed, looking shyly pleased with herself, and he could tell that for once she believed how he felt, that she was sexy and beautiful and amazing.  She had approached him, stopping just short of where he stood.  “Have you ever made love under a Christmas tree?” she had asked him, toying with the scalloped edge of the gown.

He shook his head.  “No, but I would love the opportunity to make a memory like that with you, tonight.”  And then he had moved forward, kissing her slowly, gently, until she was leaning against his body and his tongue was caressing hers.  It had taken her no time to get him naked, and he was already erect.  Seeing him hard stirred something within her, knowing how attracted he was to her, and she suddenly felt incredibly turned on.

He was still thrusting slowly, deeply, stroking her nipple randomly with his fingers.  She wrapped her arms around him, running her hands up and down his back.  She found herself wanting to slow down as well, feeling every stroke he made, every caress of her body.  She leaned up to kiss his shoulder, and she felt his hand wrap around one of her thighs and hoist it higher on his hip.  “You mean the world to me, you know that?” he whispered.  His face was mere inches from hers, eyes delving into her own, and he gently rubbed his nose against hers and smiled.  “The world, honey.”

She could see the reflection of the tree lights in his eyes, and the soft Christmas music on the radio, and he was moving with a purpose, a purpose to prove that he meant what he said, and she didn’t know if her heart was going to swell or explode.  So she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down to kiss him.

“Rafa.”  It was all she said, but he knew.  He knew everything she was feeling behind it.

He closed his eyes then and thrust more quickly, firmly, and felt her match him.  She was placing kisses over his chin, his neck, his shoulders, and he continued to nip and suck on her earlobe.  Eventually, her hands wandered over his back again, occasionally gripping and scratching, and her breath caught in her chest.  He pulled one leg up to his waist, moving quickly inside of her, as he slid a hand between them and stroked her clit in rhythm.  His mind was racing along with his heart and his body.  She was clinging to him, and the only word she said, she said over and over again:  Rafa.

He felt her stiffen, felt her nails sink into his shoulders, then heard the soft whimper escape her as her walls gripped him.  He needed her, needed this.  His mind was full of images of her and the last five months--of fighting, of crying, of laughing, of holding and fucking and needing--until it was clear.  And as he climaxed, he heard himself speak truth he hadn’t even known until that moment.

“I love you, Ness.  I love you.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love and vulnerability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are killing me! So I have some disappointing news...I have run out of pre-written chapters. I'm churning it out as fast as I can, but my posting is quite likely going to slow down a bit at this point. I'm committed to this and posting as often as I can, but look for updates every few days instead of every day at this point.
> 
> As always, your comments and kudos are so wonderful! Thank you so much for reading!

She was straddling him in the recliner, her lips pressed firmly against his as his hands gripped her hips, urging her to move more quickly.  She pulled her mouth away, gasping for air as her forehead met his gently.  “Are you sure?” she asked softly again.  “Are you sure you mean it?”

_ “I love you, Ness,”  he had cried out as he came.  “I love you.” _

Tangling a hand in her hair again, catching her eyes with his, he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her cheek.  “Yes,” he gasped again.  “I mean it.  I mean it, honey...I love you.”

“I need you--this--” her voice broke as she rose and fell on him even more quickly.  “I need you, Rafa.  I’m so empty.  I don’t want to be empty.”

_ He had collapsed on her, and when he was able to focus again, she was rubbing his back.  The realization of his words hit him hard, made him afraid to look at her.  But it was too late to take it back, to pretend he didn’t have the feelings he did.  So he had kissed her cheek gently, stroked her hair, and told her again.  “I love you, Vanessa.  I don’t know how I couldn’t.” _

He shook his head.  “You aren’t empty,” he told her.  “You’re grieving.  You’re sad.  You have a heart that is in pain.  But you aren’t alone.  We have each other, baby.  You have me.  I promise.”  He thrust upward in rhythm with her, wanting and needing to prove to her that this was real and it mattered.  That she mattered, they mattered.  

The music on their Christmas playlist was repeating again.

_ She had run her hands through his hair.  “Sometimes I’m not very loveable,” she had told him.  And he had responded with, “Hello pot...this is kettle!  Have we met before?”  They both laughed softly, and then she had kissed him, something pure and sweet and loving.  When she pulled away, she had cupped his face and said, “Rafael...I love you too.” _

They continued to rock together; one of her arms loosely around his shoulders as her other hand played with his chest.  His left hand splayed across her hip as his right hand moved back and forth between her back and her clit.  Her breath hitched every time he circled her with his fingers.  They were making love tonight; first, under the tree, and now, in the recliner, and he couldn’t remember a time he had wanted her more.

_ Her admission had bloomed in his chest, a warm heat starting in his heart and spreading outward.  He couldn’t stop touching her then, and their afterplay slowly turned into more foreplay as they had kissed and touched and aroused each other again. _

“Nessie, let’s move to the sofa,” he gasped now.  “I want to be on top of you...I want better leverage here.”

She laughed low, sexy.  “You just want to control the depth and the speed.  You’re not as smooth as you think you are, Rafael.  I’ve got your number.”  She stopped moving and climbed off of him, and he stood and guided her to the couch.  She lay on her back and he stood above her, taking his time.  “If you’re gonna insist on staring, at least give me the damn negligee to wear.”

He grinned at her then.  “Nope.  Not a chance.  As sexy as that thing is, this is way better.”  He carefully knelt between her knees before guiding himself in again.  “I love you, Vanessa.  I’m gonna say it over and over until you tell me to shut up.”

His body covered hers again and he pulled her leg up into one of their favorite positions.  It allowed him to go deeper, and he felt her sigh as much as he heard it.  “Not gonna happen,” she answered.  “I’m never going to shut you up if you’re telling me that.”

His mouth covered hers again, tongues tangling, and he thrust into her deeply, hard and quick, and she had to catch her breath before she could match his rhythm.

*************************************************

He was tracing the scar on her breast with his finger again.

They had dozed off and on, waking up sporadically to touch or kiss or caress each other, and always taking the time to murmur the newest word between them.  Now his fingers were tracing over her flaws, his lips following softly, until she asked him, “Do you really want to know how it happened?”

His eyes moved up, scanning hers for emotion, and he nodded.  “Yes, but you don’t have to tell me.”

She ran her fingers over his chest hair.  “I was undercover and the perp figured it out.  My team got me out, but not before he had some time with me.  He had a knife--cut my hip.”  She motioned to the noticeable scar on her hipbone that he had traced so many times.  “Raped me...bit my breast.  It’s a bite mark.”

Rafael’s fingers stilled for a moment, then began stroking the scar again.  “You know, if you were ever interested, plastic surgery can remove things like this.”

She could feel her insides start to quiver.  Was he making assumptions?  Was he concluding now that this is a deal-breaker?  Hesitantly, she explained.  “I’m aware, and right after it happened, I asked for and got two consultations.  Nobody seemed too concerned about lobbing off part of my body, but were quite horrified at the notion that I didn’t want to schedule something immediately.”  She paused.  He was looking at her cautiously, suddenly painfully aware that this was something she kept carefully hidden.  “Just fyi...I think our bodies tell a story about us.  Erasing that would be like, I don’t know, pretending it never happened.  And it did.  And it was terrible.  I couldn’t work for three months.  I thought about eating my gun almost every day.  And for a long time, I believed what you believe--that something methodical and legal would start my healing.”  She shook her head again.  “I started healing when I got myself into therapy and learned that I didn’t need to take the blame for every single thing that’s wrong in this world.”  She curled her fingers into his chest hair and tugged softly until he moved against her, caging her in.  “Your work wife is part of the reason I’m still here.  Pulled me up by my bootstraps and fought hard for me when I couldn’t fight for myself.’  She reached up and traced his lips with her finger.  “Liv doesn’t realize how much she impacts people sometimes.”

He found himself shaking his head immediately.  “No, she doesn’t.  If I told her once, I told her a million times that she is an incredible voice for women in New York.”  Suddenly he realized who he was talking about, and to whom.  “I’m sorry,” he started, leaning down to kiss her cheek.  “You know nothing ever happened there, with her, right?”

She smiled at him.  “For lack of trying or for lack of confidence?”

“Confidence,” he murmured, running his tongue low, across her neck before gently sucking on her pulse point.  “But it’s a moot point now, isn’t it?”

She sighed.  “Rafael, you know I would never get in the way of--”

“Stop.”  He pressed a finger to her lips holding it there.  “Three hours ago I told you I love you.  I meant it.  I’m not chasing after somebody else in my fantasies.”  His thumb began to gently run over her mouth.  “I need you to know that I want to be here, with you.  Well, maybe not completely here, but regardless of where we are in this world, I want you with me.”

She was toying with a bit of his hair, smoothing it, stroking it, fluffing it.  “Anyway.”

Rafael put his elbow on the bed and rested his head in his hand.  “Anyway, did they prosecute this guy?  Please don’t tell me he’s been out and about in Manhattan.”

She shook her head.  “No.  The team had to take him out.  He wasn’t going to just give up.”

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed the scar on her breast.  “Marks of a survivor,” he mused.  “Marks of a warrior.”  His fingers moved achingly slow over her hip and the scar tissue there.  “So strong.  You’re incredibly strong.”

“I’m going to get a tattoo,” she said suddenly.  “On my breast.  My tattoo guy says he can turn the scar into a flower.  We talked about an iris, and then the greenery will wind down to my stomach.”  She paused and he could see her swallow, hard.  “I don’t want to run from it.  It’s part of my story, of who I am.”

Suddenly his lips were on hers again, deep and passionate, and she wrapped her arms back around him, clutching at his hair.  “I want to be part of your story too, Vanessa,” he said low, intimately.  “I want to leave a mark too...a happy one.”

She caught his face in both of her hands.  “Don’t worry,” she murmured, pulling him closer, “you already are.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She snorted.  “Honey, DO you really think I’m gonna snowball fight with you in 22 degree weather? You’ve lost your mind.”
> 
> “Well, if we have a short snowball fight outside we’ll be cold, and then we’ll need to warm up, and I know how creative you are in warming up.”  He batted his eyelashes melodramatically. “I also know, honey, that you DO like that part, a lot. And don’t lie.”
> 
> She snorted again.  “Fine. But just know you owe me two orgasms for it and I might up my price between then and now.”
> 
> He clinked his coffee mug with hers.  “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is possibly the most self-indulgent chapter I've written. We all really needed a snow day! Enjoy, and I promise we'll get back to real plot in the next chapter.

Vanessa was curled up in Rafael’s arms, covered with blankets, when the alarm went off at five a.m.  She felt him unwind himself from around her as he reached to turn it off, then climbed out of the bed.  A cold draft of air made its way in his place, and she sucked in her breath.  “Christ, that’s cold,” she grumbled.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “sorry.”

She drifted back to sleep fairly quickly until she heard him say her name.  “Huh?” she responded sleepily.

“I think it’s safe to say we’re not open today,” he answered her.  “Look out the window.”

She pulled the blanket down from her forehead and peered into the darkness.  He had opened the blinds of the window next to her side of the bed.  Outside was dark with the exception of the gray-green glare on several inches of snow.  “Wow,” she mumbled, still half asleep.  “I’m impressed.  That’s a hell of a lot of snow for here.”

“Yeah it is.”  He closed the blinds again and circled around the bed, slipping back in next to her.  “We needed a snow day.”

“Mmm,” she returned, “just don’t put your FEET--” she screeched as he pressed the bottoms of his feet to her calf, then cracked up at her reaction.  “Sometimes I hate you,” she told him as he snuggled her closer, moving his feet to the mattress.

“Eh,” he told her.  “You’ll survive.”

*****************************************

She woke up to the smell of heavenly breakfast.  Tugging on a sweatshirt over her sleep tee and adding some socks, she padded out to the kitchen.

Rafael was finishing the sausage in the pan.  Coffee was ready in the pot and he had a saucepan steaming on the stovetop.  “Morning,” he greeted her with a grin, his voice still a bit gravelly from sleep.  She leaned over and kissed him, and he poured her a cup of coffee.

“What are we eating?” she asked, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs.  “It smells fantastic!”

“Don’t get too excited,” he teased.  “Just oatmeal and sausage.  Coffee.  I can scramble a couple eggs if you like.  I just thought the oatmeal would be good on such a cold day.”

“Agreed.  So do we know if all of hell has frozen over, or just the part closest to the OBX?”

He handed her a bowl of oatmeal and motioned to the condiments for it he’d put on the table.  “Close to ten inches here, they said.  High of 22 today, and tomorrow’s not looking to be much warmer either.  I can’t believe they thought we’d just have rain.”

“So we may be closed tomorrow too,” she mused.  “I bet you could make some really good pancakes on a snow day too.”

“Hmm.”  He joined her at the table.  “That sounds suspiciously like the start of a honey do list.”

She opened her eyes wide, garnering all the innocence she could, and said, “Oh!  Would you like one?  Because I can put one together...just for you!”

“Ha,” he said.  “Besides, I already have a honey do list for YOU.”

“Oh yeah?  Let’s hear it.”

“Okay,” he began.  “Honey, DO help clean up from breakfast.  Honey, DO get dressed as warm as you can.  Honey, DO come have a snowball fight with me.  Honey, DO help warm me back up when we come inside.  You can use your creative ideas for that.  And finally, honey, DO end our day with that crazy awesome hot chocolate you make.  The end.  That’s the list.”

She snorted.  “Honey, DO you really think I’m gonna snowball fight with you in 22 degree weather? You’ve lost your mind.”

“Well, if we have a short snowball fight outside we’ll be cold, and then we’ll need to warm up, and I know how creative you are in warming up.”  He batted his eyelashes melodramatically.  “I also know, honey, that you DO like that part, a lot.  And don’t lie.”

She snorted again.  “Fine.  But just know you owe me two orgasms for it and I might up my price between then and now.”

He clinked his coffee mug with hers.  “Deal.”

*****************************************************

By the time they made it outside, Brady and Rob were building a snowman next door.

“Hey!” Rob called to them.  “Want to help?”

“Sure!” Vanessa trudged her way over to their yard.  “What can I do?”

“Tan you help me, Miss Liz?  I tryin’ to make him a face!”

“A head,” Rob corrected.  “He’s trying to make the head.”

Rafael kneeled down to Brady’s level.  “Here,” he motioned to the snowball Brady was holding.  “Let me help you.  We need to roll it in the snow to make it bigger...see?”  He guided Brady through the motions.  

Vanessa surveyed their progress, and then said, “Why don’t I go get stuff for a nose and buttons and whatnot?  Would that be okay?”

“YES!” Brady shouted, jumping up and down, nearly kicking the head he and Rafael had just rolled.  “And a carrot nose!”

Laughing, Vanessa told him, “I’ll do my best!”

She headed back to the bungalow and went inside, quickly gathering the things they would need.  As she stepped out onto the porch, she could see Brady throwing soft snowballs at Rafael as Rob watched on.  All three of them were laughing, and she felt the warmth of the moment inside her chest.  Letting out a happy sigh, she joined them in the yard.

*********************************************

“You said two, hermosa.  That was only one.”

He had just pulled out of her and had immediately slid down her body.  She knew what he was doing as he started to kiss and suck on her hip.  His fingers were already delving inside of her.  

Part of her thought they indulged in this way too much.

“I know I said two,” she corrected, “but I didn’t say they had to immediately follow one another.”  His long fingers circled her clit again and she caught her breath.  “Dammit, Rafael…”

He pulled his fingers away and sat up on his knees.  “Do you really want me to stop?  If you do, that’s fine…”

“No, I don’t want you to stop.  I want me to stop wanting you so damn much.  Sometimes I think we do it too much.”

“Oh.”  He relaxed again, lying between her legs and gently sucking her thigh.  “Like an addiction or something?  You don’t really think we’re addicted, do you?”

“No.”  She ran her fingers through his sweaty hair.  He had obviously put all of his energy into this, and it showed.  “But I do think we’re avoiding.”

He didn’t say anything to that at first.  He also let his hand stay splayed on her knee, rather than returning to its previous ministrations.

A minute later, he kissed her thigh again.  “I think, considering everything, we’re doing the best we can.  Is it easier to make love than spend time thinking about everything we left behind?  Of course it is. But I’m not going to apologize for wanting you. I’m not going to apologize for loving you.  I’m not, because I”m not sorry. Not in the slightest.”

She felt the tears burning her eyes then, and she tugged at his arm until he slid up the bed next to her.  “I didn’t mean you need to be sorry,” she whispered to him.  “I just want this to be about good stuff, when we do this, you know?  I don’t want either of us to look back in a couple years and think that the sex between us was only an escape.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead.  “Or a coping mechanism?”

She stroked his cheek.  “Or that.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too, Rafael.”  She interlaced her fingers with his.  “I love you.”

He kissed her again, and after several more kisses, began to move back down her body.  This time, she didn’t stop him.

************************************************

“I swear to God, this is the best hot chocolate.  I don’t even like hot chocolate but I could drink a vat of this.”  Rafael took another sip from his mug.  “What do you put in this?”

She snickered.  “Chocolate.  Literally, there’s melted chocolate in there.  You just lucked out that I hid some from you in the cabinet.”

“Mmm.  You save me from myself.”  Grabbing a cookie from the plate on the table, he asked, “Have you made this for Max before?”

“Yeah.  It’s pretty much his favorite too.  But it’s got a ton of sugar, so only special occasions.  You know, like snow days in the south.”

He reached across the table and stroked her fingers.  “Has he played in snow before?”

She smiled, as if reliving the memory.  “Of course.  Snow is one of my favorite things.  Last year, it was around his birthday when we got that big snow...we spent a lot of time getting gear on, going outside for five minutes, and coming back in to strip and warm up.  It’s quite a process with a little kid.”

A look of confusion crossed Rafael’s face, then he sat upright.  “Did he turn three recently, then?”

She nodded.  “Yeah.  Beginning of January.”

“You never said anything.  Why didn’t you tell me, honey?”

She wrapped both her hands around her mug before taking a sip.  Setting it back on the table, she finally said, “Because it was too hard to talk about that day.”

He shook his head sadly.  “You can tell me anything, Nessa...you know that, right?  I wish I could have helped you through it.”

Now she shook her head.  “I wasn’t ready to talk about it.  And you did help me, you just didn’t know.  It was that day we got inventory in the shop.  It was a good, mind-numbing activity.  You suggested we stay late and take care of it that day, and we did.  And later that evening, I was crying when you got out of the shower, and you held me, remember?”

He did remember.  She had seemed withdrawn that day, and he had been worried she was upset with him.  But then she had curled into his arms that night and sobbed.  And all he had asked, when she was done, was if she felt any better.  And she had told him that she did.

“Yes, I remember now.”  He caught her eyes.  “Is there anything I can do now to help?”

“No, baby.  I’m better now.”  She paused for a moment.  “I’ll try to do a better job of communicating.  It’s still hard to talk about him.  There’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t miss him.  I know i don’t talk about it a lot.  It’s still just so hard.”

“Hey.”  He pulled his chair closer to her and held out his arms.  “Come here.  Let me hold you.”

She quickly took him up on his offer, sitting in his lap, and letting him comfort her again.  His hands were rubbing up and down her back, and it suddenly felt easier to breathe.  “Thank you, Rafa...thank you for always caring about me.”

“Ditto.”  He kissed her shoulder gently, then smiled at her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael was lying on the hospital bed, eyes closed, a large bandage on his head.  She could see the start of a black eye. But he was here, alive, and she was incredibly thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you're here reading this! Hope you enjoy!

Rafael finished loading the mugs into the dishwasher and started it running.  He had a couple other things to do before heading home, and was hoping he could knock them out quickly.  He’d already sent Vanessa home, telling her he could handle the little cleanup that was left.  She hadn’t slept well the night before, and he knew she was grateful to get home and nap.

As he was wiping off the counter, he heard the bell ring, announcing a customer.  Hadn’t he locked that door?  He suddenly realized he had forgotten it.  He approached the register and smiled at the young man in front of him.  “Hey,” he greeted.  “We’re actually closed, but I’d be happy to get you something that’s already prepared--”

The kid shuffled uncomfortably, toying with his hoodie.  “I don’t want no food,” he mumbled.  Then, making eye contact, he demanded, “Just gimme your money.”

Rafael’s eyebrow shot up.  “I think you should leave,”  he answered, crossing his arms.  “Now.”  

Suddenly Rafael found himself face to face with a handgun.  “You gimme your money.  Now!  Or I’ll blow a hole in your skull!  Move it!”

Rafael opened the register drawer and quickly grabbed the bills inside.  “Here,” he said, shoving the money at the boy.  “Take it.  That’s all I have.” 

The kid grabbed the money and stuck it in his pocket, then turned back to Rafael.  “Next time you should move faster,” he snarled, and then Rafael’s world went black.

*************************************************

Vanessa frantically ran from her car into the emergency room entrance, praying all the while that he was okay.  Arriving at the desk, she nervously tapped her fingers on the counter until the receptionist  hung up the phone.  “Can I help you?”

“Yes--my husband was brought in here--Ed Rivers?  I’m Liz Rivers….can you tell me where he is?”

The receptionist turned back to her screen, and after a minute, said, “Ah, there he is.  Room 23 in the ER.  Come around to the door and I’ll let you in.  You’ll go straight back and then take a left.”

Vanessa felt another rush of anxiety flooding her.  “Thank you.”  She followed the directions and quickly found herself navigating the hallways of the ER department, eventually finding room 23.

Rafael was lying on the hospital bed, eyes closed, a large bandage on his head.  She could see the start of a black eye.  But he was here, alive, and she was incredibly thankful.

She took a seat beside him and picked up his hand.  His eyes opened slowly and he smiled.  “Hey,” he croaked out.  Seeing her tears, he squeezed her hand.  “I”m okay.  It’s okay.  Don’t worry.”

Vanessa glanced toward the door, then leaned in.  “Do you think this might be linked to us?”

He started to shake his head no, then winced and stopped.  “No.  That kid had no idea about anything.  He just wanted the money.  If not, he would’ve killed me.”

She sighed heavily, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek.  “So what did he do to you?  Pistol whip you?’

“Yeah.  I thought he was just going to leave, but apparently he felt I was a less than gracious host.”

Suddenly, she laughed.  “I’m sorry,” she gasped in between giggles, “I keep telling you that you need to smile more.”

He snorted.  “I didn’t offer him a baked good.  And then to add insult to injury, I told him he had to buy a bottled drink.”

“Oh my god.”  She pressed her face to his hand, still laughing, and she could hear him snickering as well.  Slowly she calmed herself down, and kissed his hand again.  “This isn’t funny.  It isn’t funny at all.”  And she felt her eyes tear up.

He touched the tip of her nose with his index finger and smiled.  “I’m okay,” he repeated.  “Don’t go there, okay?”

She nodded.  “Okay.” And she settled back in the chair next to him, still holding his hand.

****************************************************

“So I think we should just close the shop for the rest of the week.”  Rafael was on the sofa, throw blanket over his legs and scrolling through his ipad.  “I should be good to go back by Monday.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”  Vanessa handed him a coffee mug.  “I can run the shop by myself for a few days.  There’s no point in closing it.”

His eyes narrowed, watching her grab a mug of coffee for herself and return to the recliner.  “No.  I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  He swirled his coffee.  “It’s too soon.  Besides, they don’t have this kid in custody.  I think it’s a bad idea for you to be there alone every day.”

She set her mug on the coffee table.  “That kid would have to be completely devoid of brain activity to come back.”

“I don’t know--you never know about this stuff.  Aren’t you the one who was always preaching how unpredictable perps can be?”

She sighed.  “I’m carrying, you know.  It’s going to be fine.  And anyway, I’m not gonna let the little bastard drive me out of my shop.  If nothing else, it’s a point of pride here.”

He couldn’t argue with that, so he decided to go with the truth.  “Vanessa,” he said quietly, “I’m just terrified something might happen to you.”

She moved next to him on the couch, then wrapped her arms around him and kissed his temple.  “I know.  Me too.  Why do you think it’s so important to me to go back right away?”

***********************************************

She wasn’t sure if it was the cry or the slap to the face that woke her up first.

Rafael was still thrashing, still crying out unintelligible words to an invisible something that was clearly torturing him.  “Rafael,” she murmured quietly, stroking his shoulder.  “It’s okay, honey.  Wake up.  You’re okay.”

His arm went up to connect with her again, to push her away, but then his eyes flew open and he gasped deeply, as though he’d been holding his breath.  His eyes searched the room frantically as he tried to make sense of the shadows.  Vanessa leaned over and turned on the light.  “You’re okay,” she told him calmly.  “You’re at home.  I’m here.  It’s all okay.”

The shock and fear began to fade from his features, and he pressed both of his hands to his face, covering it.  “I was having a dream,”  he said softly.  “That kid was there, demanding money, but then you were there, and I kept telling you to shoot him, but you kept saying you could talk him down, and I could see he was going to kill you, and I couldn’t stop him--”

“I’m right here,” she reminded him.  “Everything is okay.  You’re going to be okay.”

He shuddered involuntarily in her arms before catching his breath.  “Yes,” and then he repeated, “Everything is okay.”  Glancing up at her face, he asked, “Are you sure you need to go in today?”

She sighed again.  “How about we compromise?  I’ll go in today, and then we will close the shop for the whole weekend.  Will that work?”

Realizing this was probably the best deal he was going to get, he nodded.  “Okay.  But don’t stay late.”

“Okay.”  She slid back under the covers with him.  “Do you mind if we sleep a little more?  I have an hour before I need to be up.”

He wrapped his arms around here.  “Sure, that’s fine.”  He softly kissed her forehead, then snuggled in to sleep.

**********************************************

Rafael was watching the clock anxiously.  He had agreed that Vanessa could open the shop today, although he had had the sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t have mattered if he had said no.  But it was almost four, and they closed at 2:30.  It took every ounce of his self-control not to call her or walk the quarter mile from the bungalow to the store.

Just as he was reaching for his phone, he heard the front door.  “Hey,” she called out.  “I’m home--where are you?”

He quickly slid his phone into his back pocket and went to join her in the kitchen.  She was putting up a few groceries, and he breathed a sigh of relief.  She must have been grocery shopping.  “Hola, mami,” he started, turning her to face him.  As he went to kiss her, he suddenly pulled back.  “What in the hell happened to you?”

“What?” she asked, then touched her cheek.  “Oh, you don’t remember that, do you?  You socked me in the middle of the night last night.”

His eyes visibly widened and his face took on a look of shock.  “Oh my God,” he repeated over and over again, trying to examine her cheek more closely.  “Vanessa, I’m so sorry...I had no idea..”

She shrugged.  “It was an accident.  You were flailing, fighting in your sleep.  It’s what woke me up.”  She pulled out of his arms to put away the ice cream.  “I didn’t think it was going to leave a mark either, but there it is.”  She turned back around to see him looking horrified.  “Rafael,” she said gently, putting a hand on either side of his waist, “it’s okay.  I’m okay.”

He shook his head.  “Maybe I should sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You can’t,” she told him.  “I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore.”  She slipped a finger into his belt loop.  “How was your day?”

He was still eyeing her skeptically.  “Boring,” he admitted.  “I’m not used to hanging around by myself doing nothing for several hours at a time.  It would have been a lot more fun if you were here.”

She grinned.  “I would imagine that’s true.  I’m nothing if not entertaining.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged teasingly.  “At least we have the weekend.  Two whole uninterrupted days.  I’m wondering how we’ll spend the time.”  He sat in one of the kitchen chairs and pulled her onto his lap.

“I’m sure you have some ideas.  Probably even a list somewhere.”

“Mmm.”  He kissed her neck gently.  “In my head, but I can write it down if you prefer.”

“Whichever.”  She toyed with the neckline of his tee.  “You’re the one with the concussion so if you need a list to help you remember--”

He bunched up his fingers and tickled her stomach until they were both laughing and gasping for air.  “Okay, okay!” she cried out, laughing.  “No lists!”

He laughed as he leaned forward to kiss her, lips and tongue searching for hers, and his hand tangled in the back of her hair.  “I love you, Vanessa.  Can I make you feel good?”

She kissed him back deeply and slid her hands under his shirt.  “Yes please,” she whispered in his ear, and then untangled herself from his lap.  Shooting him a come hither look, she turned and headed toward their bedroom.

***********************************************

They were lying together naked, legs and arms entangled, her head resting on his chest.  She could smell the musk of his scent, the saltiness of his sweat, and she slowly ran her fingers through his chest hair.  “You’re very sexy,” she said, out of the blue, and he laughed.

“Yeah, the concussion adds a certain something.  Makes me look dangerous.”

“Or clumsy.”

“That too.” His fingers ran up and down her back slowly.  “Were you in love with Max’s dad?”

She turned her head to look at him.  “Well, that came out of nowhere.  At one time, yes.  Why?”

‘Just wondering.”  He continued to move his hand up and down her back.  “I always enjoy learning more about you.”

“I feel the same about you.”  She curled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his side.  “You’ve never talked about your previous lovers or relationships.  I mean, you don’t have to, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious...at least a little bit.”

“I haven’t had a relationship to speak of since I came to Manhattan,” he confessed.  “When we met in Brooklyn, I was involved with someone pretty seriously.  But in the end, we both just decided we wanted different things.  He wanted to get married and have kids, and I wanted to advance my career.  I moved on to Manhattan and he moved on to another man.”  His fingers absently traced over the scar on her hip.  “He’s married now--two kids, I think.  His husband is a teacher, and I think they’re both very happy.”

She rested her chin on her forearm.  “Do you ever regret that decision?”

He shook his head.  “No.  I wouldn’t have been happy, and it wouldn’t have been fair to any of us, especially not a child.”

She was quiet for a moment.  “You know, when this ends and we go back, there’s a lot of adjustment we’ll have to do.  And Max is my number one priority.”  She paused, took a deep breath before continuing.  “And I will understand if we get back and you realize that you just aren’t interested in doing the kid thing.  I just ask that you be honest with me.  Because like it or not, Max and I are a package deal.”

“That’s not going to be a problem,” he replied firmly.  “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“I’m just saying...if at any point it is NOT exactly where you want to be, please tell me.  I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to sacrifice your happiness because of me...or Max.”

He ran a hand through her hair again.  “Okay.  I can do that.”

She leaned up to caress his lips with her own.  “Yes?”

“Yes.” 

***********************************************

“You know, I don’t have a permit or anything.  Don’t I have to have a permit to fire one of these things?”

“You’re fine.  We are only doing this here--you’re not going to start carrying.  This isn’t the wild west.  But you do need to know how to shoot it in case you need to.”

Rafael looked at her skeptically and adjusted his goggles.  “Quit looking like that,” she told him, “and put your earplugs in.”

He adjusted the earplugs.  It had been Vanessa’s idea to come to the gun range.  He knew after Thursday’s debacle she was nervous for him, but it had also been awhile since she had practiced as well.  He had no intention of ever using her gun, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.  At least not right now.

She guided him through safety steps and initial instructions, and coached him through his first round of shooting at a target.  “Come on,” she teased him, “you can aim better than that.  Pretend it’s someone you can’t stand.”  Suddenly her eyes lit up.  “Pretend it’s Chief Dodds!”

“Very funny,” he groused, but took aim and fired again.  This time, he came much closer to his target.

“Good work!” she praised, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of his improvement.  “Try again?”

He took a couple more turns, with his aim improving each round.  Their time was almost up when he stopped and said, “Your turn now...let me see what you can do.”

She shook her head.  “You say that like this is foreplay.”

“Now Liz,” he said coyly, “that would be wrong.”

Making a face at him, she stepped in front of the target, and hit her mark repeatedly, in quick succession.  Turning to him, she smiled.  “Some people’s aim is better than others.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.”

**********************************************

On Tuesday, Rafael got a call from the local police to come down to the precinct.  They had picked up somebody who matched the description of the robber.

It took him two minutes to identify the kid.  Local high school dropout with a drug problem, the young man had moved out of the area a few years ago but had recently come back to visit family.  Knowing his back story put Rafael more at ease.  This definitely wasn’t somebody who was trying to carry out a hit.

Vanessa was waiting for him outside of the precinct.  It was a beautifully sunny day, warmer than it had been, and they meandered outside for a little bit.  “I hope that kid gets his act together,” Rafael sighed.  “Just sounds like he’s gotten sucked into drugs and can’t find a way out.”

“Yeah, maybe.”  Vanessa tapped her boot against the tire.  “Hey...you wanna go for a walk on the beach?  It’s still gonna be light for awhile.”

He nodded.  “Sure.”  And as they both got into the car, he thanked God again that this was coincidence, and they were still safe.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael and Vanessa have some surprise visitors.

They were taking their time, slow.  And if she were honest, it was her favorite time of the week.

At some point, they had decided that Mondays were hard,and if they wanted to have a good attitude on Monday morning at work, they needed to start off Monday in a special way, and what was more special than great sex?  She was pretty sure that part of the idea came from Rafael.  Horny bastard.

But somehow, they had mutually agreed upon waking up at four in the morning on Mondays so they could leisurely make love before the week started.  And as much as she loved to sleep, Rafael was good enough at this that he made sleep disappear from her brain.

She couldn’t really remember a time anymore that she didn’t have a hickey somewhere on her body.  It was almost like a game, to look in the mirror and find where he’d marked her the day or two before.  Almost every mark he gave her could be hidden under her clothing, except for the time he got her good on her clavicle, closer to her neck.  She told him if it happened again, she was going to give him one for the ages, right in the very front of his neck.  His eyes had sparkled then, like it was a dare, and she had had to verbally spar with him multiple times to protect herself.

He was currently sucking and licking her nipples, rolling whichever one wasn’t in his mouth, enjoying the feel of the taut skin and listening to her soft sighs.  She had given up a long time ago in trying to be coy with him.  They both found it much more exciting to talk about what they wanted, what they enjoyed, than to pretend they didn’t.  He caught her nipple with his teeth and tugged the nub before letting go.  “You like that, honey?”

His voice was smooth and warm this time of morning, and the fact that all of his focus was on her was incredibly arousing in itself.  She ran her fingers through his short hair and tugged gently.  “Yes, I like it,” she affirmed.  “When do I get to do you?”

He laughed softly, pulling up to kiss her mouth.  “In a little while.  I still have a little more exploring to do.”  Pressing his lips back to hers again, she felt his hand stroke over her body, gently, before guiding itself to her hip.  His fingers danced over her skin gently, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. 

Rafael slid down her body until he could kiss her hipbone.  He nipped at her, then sucked, leaving a rose-colored bruise behind.  He grinned at his handiwork, then moved to her belly button, sucking the skin next to it.  “You taste divine,” he murmured against her belly, then continued his journey downward.

When his mouth encircled her clit and sucked again, she arched up toward him.  “Yes, like that, Rafa...oh, so good…”

He hummed against her, rhythmically sucking and releasing, and he slipped two fingers inside of her.  He loved how responsive she was, how they both had become increasingly comfortable in being vocal about what they wanted and how they felt.  She was moaning softly now, her hand tangled in his hair and gently guiding him back and forth where she wanted him.  He was achingly hard but determined to pleasure her for as long as she’d let him.  As he thrust his fingers and licked at her rhythmically, he watched her face--eyes closed, mouth open, and instinctively knew she was close.  He pulled back.

She opened her eyes but didn’t say anything, only reached for him as he eased his way back up the bed.  “You think we still need a condom?” he asked.  She had gotten the shot the week before.

“We should be fine,” she told him, running a hand over his bicep.  “Your upper body does things to me, you know.”

“Huh, and here I thought it was my dick.”  He laughed and leaned forward to kiss her.  He brushed his lips to hers, and then lined up and pushed in.  

“Yes.”  She ran her hands over his back, feeling his muscles shift as he began to move.  “I want you, Rafa.  You make me feel so good.”  She rocked her hips toward him on every thrust, and he closed his eyes, lost in the sensation of her.

“More,” she murmured to him.  Her lips were against his ear, warm breath tickling the earlobe.  “Want more of you.  Deeper.  Want all of you, Rafael.”

He opened his eyes and caught hers focused on him, faces nearly touching, and she nodded again.  “More of you...please?”

His mouth collided with hers recklessly as he pulled her leg up, wrapped high around him, and he thrust, burying himself nearly completely inside of her, and they both stilled for a moment.  His lips separated from hers and he breathed, “I love you…”  He pulled back and thrust deeply again and met her eyes.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered to him.  “Please...don’t stop…’

He clung to her thigh as he thrust deep repeatedly, firmly, and didn’t pull his gaze away from hers.  She was gasping with him on every thrust, arching her chest against him, and she helped him hook her leg over his shoulder.  He groaned, moving quickly inside of her, watching the pleasure settle in her expression.  At some point he realized she was now bracing her hand on the headboard so she wouldn’t hit it, and the thought both amused him and aroused him even more.

He was deep inside her, and part of her wished they could stay like this, joined and feeding off of each other’s pleasure and energy.  Every cell in her body felt alive.  She could hear the tapping of the headboard against the wall and the soft slap of their bellies every time he thrust forward.  Her own moans combined with his soft grunts, peppered with I love you’s.  The scent of their lovemaking, and the beautiful expression on his face--strained, determined, aroused.  And she felt incredibly blessed to see it.  With her free hand, she stroked his sweaty hair and pulled him down for another kiss.

She felt his hand move to her clit and rubbing her furiously.  She groaned at the immense pleasure coursing through her body, and then she  heard him urging her on, and she knew he was close. 

“Come, baby,” she told him.  “Come on...you’re so beautiful...come inside me, honey…”  She watched as his eyes closed and he thrust erratically a few times before groaning and giving in, arching toward her.  She ground against him a couple more times before climaxing herself, and when she closed her eyes the only picture she saw was of his face, eyes closed and mouth open and so, so breathtaking.

They lay still afterward, limbs wrapped around each other, dozing and taking comfort in the warmth of one another.  She was almost asleep again when he said, “You make me happy.”

She opened her eyes.  He was gazing at her, a sleepy half-smile on his face.

“I love you,” she told him, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

******************************************

“Here you are.”  Rafael handed a latte to the young man waiting.  “Enjoy!’

The store was humming with a larger than normal mid-morning crowd.  It was spring break, so there were a few more tourists than usual for the time of year, and both Rafael and Vanessa had been busy all morning.  She was currently in the back trying to whip up some more quick breads to keep up with the demand.

He was whipping up a frozen coffee drink when he heard the door ring again.  He quickly finished the drink he was working on, handed it to the customer, and moved to take the next order.

“I’m telling you, there’s no way coffee here can compare to home.  You just know some things aren’t going to be the same--”

The man who was speaking froze and looked as though he had seen a ghost, and Rafael swore he literally felt his heart stop.

Recovering as quickly as he could, Rafael plastered a huge smile on his face.  “Small world!” he exclaimed, reaching a hand across the counter to shake.  “Detective Carisi!  I don’t know if you remember me--I’m Ed Rivers.  I was your neighbor in New York!” 

Carisi looked stunned, but reached across the counter to shake his hand.  “Yes,” he said slowly, “I do remember.  How are you doing?”

“Great!  Liz and I are really doing well.”  He suddenly noticed the petite blonde next to Carisi, holding a small child.  “Detective Rollins.”  He nodded.  “Good to see you again.”

Rollins’ eyes were large.  “Is, um--Liz--is she here?” she asked.  “I haven’t spoken to her in ages.”

He nodded.  “She’s in the back, working on some baking.  You see our little corner of the world here.”  He chuckled nervously.  “Things have worked out for us.”

Rollins reached across the counter and caught his hand.  “Ed,” she said, low, “it’s so nice to see you.”

He choked down the lump in his throat.  “Oh my God, I’m slacking.  What can I get you all to drink?  Anything you like--on the house.”  He leaned forward toward Jesse.  “And what would you like, sweetheart?”

Rollins chuckled, “An apple juice for her, and I’d like a latte...how about you, Sonny?”

Carisi looked as though he were still in shock, but he answered, “Americano would be great.”

Rafael nodded.  “Let me get those started for you, and then I’ll grab Liz.  I know she’ll be so excited to see you both.”

After preparing and delivering the drinks to Rollins’ and Carisi’s table, he went to the back of the store.  Vanessa was taking bread out of the oven.  “Hey,” she greeted, inverting the loaf pan.  “What’s up?”

He smirked at her.  “Guess who’s here?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, surveying the cranberry loaf in front of her.  “Brady?”

“No.”  He hoisted himself on top of the counter, still smirking.

“Don’t sit up there--your ass is a health code violation,” she told him.  “I have no idea who’s here.  And I don’t have time to guess--I’m taking these out of the oven--”

“Oh, you should go see.  They’re sitting at a table.  They asked for you, specifically.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, then headed toward the front of the store.  He hopped off the counter and followed her.

As she entered the shop floor, Vanessa scanned the tables quickly before her breath caught in her chest, and she looked incredulously at Rafael.  He grinned and shrugged, then said, “It’s funny...Detective Carisi hardly remembered us as his neighbors in New York.”

Her face still wearing an incredulous expression, she made her way over to Carisi, Rollins, and Jesse. Carisi was standing before she got to the table.  “You look fantastic,” he said, wrapping her in a gigantic hug.  “It’s been a long time.”

Rollins was right behind him, hugging her as well.  “I’m so glad to see this has been a good move for you.”

“It has,” Vanessa confirmed, trying to suppress the tears in her voice.  “We are doing well here.”  Glancing around them, she said, “I don’t know your schedule, but Ed and I would love to have you over for dinner tonight, if you’re available.  I can give you the address.”

Rollins and Carisi exchanged glances before she nodded.  “Absolutely.  Here,” she said, handing Vanessa a piece of paper and digging through her purse for a pen.  “If you jot it down, we’ll make it there.  What time is good for you?’

“How’s five?” Rafael asked.  

Amanda nodded.  “Perfect.  We’ll be there.”

“We sure will,” Carisi confirmed, and they sat back down to finish their coffee.

*********************************************

There was a knock on the door at five, on the nose.

Rafael was in the kitchen, finishing the last dish to go in the oven.  Vanessa opened the door and welcomed them in.  Once the front door closed, she found herself enveloped in hugs again.  A minute later Rafael had joined them with a box of tissues.  “Come on in and sit down,” he finally said, and moved everyone into the front room.

“I still can’t believe it’s you guys,” Caris said, shaking his head.  “I swear, I was at your funerals six months ago.  Does anyone at SVU know?”

“Well, you two now,” Vanessa told him, “plus Liv.”

“Liv knows?”  Rollins looked dumbfounded.  “I would have never guessed.  She’s done quite a good job of acting like both of you died.”

Vanessa glanced at Rafael, whose face had gone dark.  She could tell he was thinking about the effect all of this must have had on Olivia.  “So tell us everything...how is everyone?”

They spent the next hour catching up on life in general.  Fin was a grandfather.  The new ADA was a lazy ass and everyone disliked him immensely.  Olivia was working harder than ever, but they had recently celebrated Noah’s birthday.

“Oh!” Rollins exclaimed suddenly, pulling her phone out of her back pocket.  “Oh my God, I can’t believe I forgot about this.”  She scrolled through her phone for a moment, then handed it to Vanessa.  

It was a photo of Noah’s birthday party.  Several children were seated around the table, eating cake and ice cream.  One of those children was Max.

Vanessa felt her throat tighten as she stared at the photo.  He was laughing, chocolate cake smeared on his face, dark hair smooth and straight, brown eyes shining.  She wasn’t aware she was crying until a tear dripped onto the phone.

“There’s more,” Amanda said, then gently swiped to the next picture.

Four photos in all, of Max playing and eating and smiling and laughing, and she couldn’t put down the phone if she had wanted to.  The conversation around her picked up again, and Rolins was saying something about how brave Liv was to host a kid’s birthday party at her house, but all Vanessa saw were those pictures.  “I’m sorry,” she finally said, still not looking away.  “I haven’t seen him in six months.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Amanda said, “We’ll be here another couple of days.  Why don’t I go to Walgreen’s and print them out for you?”

She knew the rules, knew she wasn’t supposed to have anything from her former life that could tie her to who she was.  She looked at Rafael, and he nodded.  “That would be fantastic, Amanda,” he told her, and Vanessa let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.  “Hey, dinner’s about ready...you guys ready to eat?”

Hesitantly, Vanessa handed Amanda’s phone back, and they all headed to the kitchen.

********************************************

They clung to each other, sweaty and desperate, as though they could chase away the pain of their losses like this.

Rollins and Carisi had barely made it out the door when he had awkwardly shoved her against the wall and kissed her deeply, tugging at her clothes.  She had yanked his shirt off quickly, and before they had spoken a word they were in the bedroom, naked and groping each other needily.

There was no foreplay this time, no coaxing or gentleness, just hot desire to flood out everything that hurt.  He had pushed inside her quickly and she had gasped enough to make him look at her for a second; she had grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head down to kiss him, and that was as much consent as he needed.  They fucked hard and relentlessly and somewhere in there she realized she was tasting his tears as well as her own; she pushed him over hard and straddled him, continuing the brutal pace as one of his hands grabbed her hip and the other rubbed her.   “Come,” he commanded, and she could hear the desperation in his voice.  “Come on, Ness.  Come now.”  She pumped herself up and down on him furiously until her orgasm caught her, obliterating her senses.  A minute later she was on her back, Rafael fucking her hard and fast until he cried out loudly and arched against her.  Then he was lying on top of her again, and she could feel his body shaking with sobs, just like her own.

He pulled out and pressed his body next to hers, wrapping her in his arms, and she did the same.  Gentle kisses on his chest, on her hair, and I love you’s filled the air.  

The loss of their old lives had never felt more palpable. 

*****************************************

The next day, Vanessa found an envelope in their mailbox with four pictures of a little boy at a birthday party.  She brought them inside and slid them into her nightstand.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mouth opened as though he were going to say something, she wasn’t sure what, but then it closed again.  He grabbed his keys and opened the front door. She was on his heels, and almost tripped when he stopped suddenly and turned to her.  “So we just go through today like we were planning to?” he asked, and she could nearly feel his frustration. “We pretend we don’t know what we know?  We pretend we’ll still be doing this tomorrow, next week, next month?”
> 
> “Yes,” she told him, and watched his brow furrow and his mouth draw into a thin line.  “Until they come for us, that’s exactly what we do.”

Vanessa rounded the side of the bungalow, approaching the porch, when loud 80s metal music pierced the air.  Hurrying along the edge of the porch, she could hear Rafael singing along with Poison’s “Talk Dirty to Me”.  She swung the porch door open to see him on a ladder, paint dripping down his arm, as he swiped at the ceiling.  The porch door slammed shut and he looked down.  “Oh, hey,” he said, as though this was an absolutely normal place for him to be.

She lay the bag she was carrying by her feet.  “What in the hell are you doing, Ed?”

He looked down at her again, grinning.  “Painting.”  He motioned toward a brush and paint in a shallow container.  “Want to help?  Remember, you said when we moved in that you hated the coral out here...I thought I’d surprise you.”

She crossed her arms in front of her.  “With...blue.”  

He sighed and took a step down.  “You don’t like it.”  He lay the paintbrush back in the paint tray.  “I knew I should have talked with you first, but I just--”

“I love it.”  She was looking fiercely determined at the ceiling, and nodded firmly, before looking directly at him.  “I love it.  It’s perfect.  Let me go change and I’ll help you finish it.”

His face broke into a look of relief.  “Yeah?  I think it makes it kind of pop, you know, with the ocean right there.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he cocked one back at her.  She picked up the bag she’d deposited at her feet and hurried to the bedroom to change.

***********************************************

They were reclining on the couch, freshly showered, watching House Hunters.  Rafael was eating cheese nips from the box.  “I can’t believe this is a show,” he mused, tossing a cracker into his mouth.  “People will watch anything these days.”

“Oh please,” she teased, poking his stomach.  “Who’s the one who was investigating what all the real estate in this neighborhood goes for?”

“There’s nothing wrong with knowing our options.  Besides, that was more commercial stuff I was interested in.  In case we ever wanted to move or expand.”

She snorted.  “Give the boy a coffee shop and watch him build an empire.” 

“Oh, come on.  I know you have a secret desire to be a master baker.  We could always create a place that wasn’t primarily coffee...you could get equal billing.”

She turned her head and looked at him for a few minutes, not saying anything.  And then she said, “I don’t want to be a baker.”

He nodded, and she knew he knew.  They were both doing the best they could, with what they had.  He offered her a cheese nip, and she took it but didn’t eat it.  “Maybe not, but you’re still good at it.  Better than me, anyway.”  He popped another cheese nip in his mouth.

“When you were a kid, what did you want to be?” she asked him, watching him chew the cracker.

He swallowed, and then said, “A judge.  I wanted to decide what was fair and right.”

She handed him back the cracker she’d been holding.  “That sounds like a good gig.”

“El juez,” he chuckled.  “Abuelita used to call me that, knowing I wasn’t.  She said it was only a matter of time.”

Vanessa was watching him, and she smiled.  “Maybe she’s right.  Maybe the time is coming.”

“Hmm.”  He tousled her hair gently.  “How about you?  What did you want to be?”

She laughed to herself.  “A singer.  Apparently I couldn’t hear how bad I sounded!”

He snickered.  “You don’t sound bad, babe.  Anyway, who sounds great when they’re a kid?”  His index finger poked her hand.  “Why’d you give it up?”

She shook her head.  “Got pulled in other directions.  Not a lot of arts appreciation going around in my house as a kid.”

“Tell you what.  When I become el juez, you can sing a song for my swearing in ceremony.  How’s that?”

“You’re really determined that judgeship is never gonna happen, aren’t you?” she teased, and he pressed his lips to her belly and blew a raspberry.

**************************************************

Rafael was pouring two cups of coffee when Vanessa emerged from the bedroom, semi-ready to face the day.  Smiling, he handed her a mug.  He’d learned the hard way that she was even less of a morning person than he was.  He hadn’t thought that was a thing before witness protection.  She took the mug, murmured something that sounded close to “thanks”, and moved to the recliner, clicking on the early news.

He opened the porch door and grabbed the newspaper, then sat in his place on the couch, pulling the sections apart.  Vanessa had turned on a cable news station for New York--the only time either of them allowed it on in the house--but her face was still buried in her cup.  Another five minutes in, and he looked up from the local arts and entertainment section and smiled.  “There you are,” he teased, noticing that he could finally see the whites of her eyes.  “Good morning, sunshine.”  He leaned over and kissed her nose.

“Jesus, you are entirely too happy at five in the morning,” she grunted, sucking down an inordinate amount of coffee.  “Happier than my kid used to be.  Something wrong with that.”

He squeezed her knee.  “Just be thankful that I was able to adjust to this schedule.  If I wasn’t, it might have been you.”

“Pfft.”  She finished her first cup, then headed to the kitchen.  Pouring a second round, she surveyed the mess on the counter.  “Are you eating quick bread this early?  Are you kidding me?”

“Don’t give me a hard time...it’s that peanut butter oat thing you make.  It’s good.  And it’s got protein.  You said that, not me.  I can’t live on sex and caffeine alone.”

She sank back into the recliner.  “The fact you can eat at five a.m. grosses me out in ways I can’t even verbalize.”  She kicked the side of his foot, then smirked.  “At least not at five a.m.”

He stood and grabbed his sweatshirt.  “You ready?  Get your fill of New York news?”

She sighed.  “The only thing I got a fill of is that Brooklyn accent.”  He tossed her a sweatshirt and she pulled it on.  “All right.  More coffee when we get there, right?”

“Absolutely.”  He grabbed the remote and went to hit the switch, then suddenly froze.  “Vanessa--Liz--”he shook his head, then nodded toward the TV.  “Vanessa.”

“What?” she turned toward the television in time to see a photo of each of them imposed on the screen.  Rafael turned up the volume and she felt herself sink into the couch.  He followed a moment later.

“...Sources say the children’s right’s attorney has been charged with hiring multiple hit men, one of whom murdered Manhattan Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba last summer.  Additionally, Ms. Cox has been charged with the death of FBI Agent Vanessa Rayden, who was killed in the same attack.  It is believed that Ms. Cox was attempting to avenge the charges and sentencing of her husband, New York City’s former Deputy Commisioner Hank Abraham.  Mr. Abraham was charged and prosecuted by Mr. Barba’s office for multiple counts of child pornography.  Stay with us for your forecast…”

“Holy shit.”  Rafael was on his feet again, pacing.  “That can’t be right.  There’s no way Pippa Cox would know people to make this happen.”  He was shaking his head, walking back and forth between the TV and the coffee table.  “There’s no way, Ness.  I know Pippa.  I  _ knew  _ her.  I’m telling you, it’s not possible….I just don’t see it.”

She was watching him, back and forth, back and forth.  A mother.  Another mother did this to her.  A mother, griefstricken by what was taken from her family.  A mother she knew.  That she had worked with, too.  A mother she had liked.  

“But she did.”  Vanessa stood up and stepped in the way of Rafael’s track, halting his pacing.  His arms were crossed, his eyes wide again, and they searched her face.  She knew he would--he always did--and because of that, she set her features even more firmly than she normally would.  “Rafa, if they have arrested her, she did it.  They have proof.  It would not have made it to the news if they didn’t.”

“But nobody has shown up here.”  He motioned around them, and she suddenly saw their place as if it were the first time.  Coffee cups strewn about, his leftover bite of peanut butter oat bread, the pile of clean, unfolded laundry in the extra chair.  Their home.

She reached for his arm.  “They will,” she said, nodding with certainty.  “I just don’t know when...but for now, it’s 5:26, and we have a store to get open.”

His mouth opened as though he were going to say something, she wasn’t sure what, but then it closed again.  He grabbed his keys and opened the front door.  She was on his heels, and almost tripped when he stopped suddenly and turned to her.  “So we just go through today like we were planning to?” he asked, and she could nearly feel his frustration.  “We pretend we don’t know what we know?  We pretend we’ll still be doing this tomorrow, next week, next month?”

“Yes,” she told him, and watched his brow furrow and his mouth draw into a thin line.  “Until they come for us, that’s exactly what we do.”

She saw him stiffen, then pull himself up in a way she hadn’t in months.  She followed him out of the bungalow and down the short walk to the shop.  She watched as he unlocked the door and led them in.  She headed toward the kitchen while he began the day’s work of setting up the front of the house.

When she came back around the counter ten minutes later to place the baked goods on their racks, he was standing over the cash register, arms locked on either side, head down.  “Rafa,” she said, low, and put a hand on his back, “are you okay?”

He didn’t move for a moment, didn’t look at her.  For a second, she wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.  Then, in a near whisper, he said, “I knew her.  I cared about her.  I worked to give him the best possible outcome.  Why couldn’t she see that?”  She reached up and wiped a stray tear from his cheek.  “It makes no sense.”

She pressed a hand to his face.  He wasn’t looking at her, and she was fairly certain that was a good thing.  They needed to get through this day; they needed some semblance of normalcy.  “They usually don’t make sense,” she told him.  “You know that.  We both do.”  Seeing the hand on the clock approaching six, she told him, “Go to your office...do some work until you feel like you can breathe…”

He shook his head.  “You can’t breathe either…”

“I’m breathing right now.  It’s okay.  You break now, I’ll break later.”  She ignored how much her words felt like they could be literal in this moment.  “Come back when you’re ready, Ed.”

His eyes met hers then, and he squeezed both of her arms gently.  “I love you, Elizabeth.”

She winked at him, and watched as he grabbed a cup of coffee and headed toward the office.  Taking a deep breath herself, she flipped on the OPEN light and started the day.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He brushed his lips over hers as he’d done hundreds of times, but this time felt different.  There was a space, a distance between them. He didn’t know if it was their argument, or unresolved feelings, or the fact that everything about tomorrow was up in the air, but he hated the feeling of disconnection.  From the first time they had had sex, he had felt connected to her in a way he’d never really experienced with anyone else. She had never lied to him, never insisted they were anything more or less than they were. And yet here he was, unsure of what would be happening to either of them in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think they'd go home right away, did you? 
> 
> I absolutely love your comments and kudos--hope you enjoy this chapter!

One purchase after another, the day went on.  

They worked like a well-oiled machine most of the time.  Their roles were clearly defined, and they were both quick to finish anything that needed to be taken care of.  All day, they both kept smiles pasted to their faces.  

Rafael had emerged from the office around 6:45 that morning, and Vanessa had ducked in around 10:30, but other than those two breaks, the day continued as any other.  At 3 p.m., Rafael turned the OPEN sign off, as he did every other day, and they closed up the shop.

Nobody had come for them.

He didn’t know why he had assumed that the Marshals would show up before he and Vanessa  had any clue that somebody had been arrested.  He had always figured they would understand how anxious he was to get home, to get back to his old life.  How much he longed to see his family, his friends, to be in his condo and wearing his suits and sleeping in his own bed.

Sleeping alone.

Maybe not that part, so much.

She was wrapping up the rest of the day’s goods for the morning, her face void of any expression, and for a second he wondered what she was thinking.  Was she thinking about Max?  How she could be holding him any minute?  How the clock was stealing even more time away from her right now?  Or was she thinking about creature comforts too--her own clothes, her own apartment, her own bed.  

He didn’t even know if the bed was really empty.  They’d never talked about her ex, more than to just say he was an ex.  But he was Max’s father.  She had said she was in love with him at one point.  And he obviously had been holding everything together in her absence.  

And there was Liv.  His Liv.  Olivia, who had convincingly mourned his pretend passing.  Carisi had told him, privately, that Liv had met his mother for lunch every month he’d been gone, and it had eased his mother’s ache tremendously.  He would never be able to repay that debt.  He didn’t know how he could even try.

“You ready?”

Vanessa was smiling at him--smiling, as though it were any other day--and holding out the keys.  He managed a tight smile in return and held the door for her to exit through.

He locked it behind her, wondering if he would be unlocking it again the next morning.

**********************************************

He did.

Somehow they managed to continue their basic routine without snapping each other’s heads off.  There were multiple times they each had to step away. 

On Thursday, three days in, he blew up.  He told her the FBI was useless if they couldn’t even get their agents out of witness protection in a timely manner, and clearly they didn’t value their people if they weren’t in any big hurry to get her back. She had stared at him wide-eyed for several seconds before storming out of the bungalow and going for a long walk on the beach.

While she was gone, he decided to reattach the porch swing.  Alone.  

She was gone for over an hour, in which time he finally got the damn thing hanging again how it was supposed to.  Then he went into the bungalow and dug out the big surprise he had purchased--a new cover, pillows, and blankets for the stupid thing.  She had loved the damn thing from the first day they had moved in, and here they were about to move out, but he was going to recover it if it was the last fucking thing he did.

He figured he probably owed her that much, considering.

It was close to nine before he heard her coming up the path to the porch.  He had lit a couple of candles and poured two glasses of wine, hoping for the best.  She swung the porch door open and, upon seeing him, stopped in her tracks.

“Hey,” he started, half smiling, trying to soften his earlier behavior, “I, uh, redid the swing.”

She stood still, staring at him as though he had just landed from Mars.

“Here.”  He handed her a glass of wine.  She looked at it and hesitantly took it from him.  “Uh, here’s the thing.  I fucked up.  I let my frustration get the better of me and I let it out on you.  That’s really not acceptable and it’s not who I am.”  

She was looking in her glass, as though the wine were fascinating.

“Liz.”  He took a step toward her.  “Vanessa.”

He knew that would do it, knew it would goad her into a response.  He had broken a rule again, said her name on the porch.  But he didn’t care.  The danger had passed.  The only danger left to them was themselves.

She was looking at him now, and he wasn’t sure what to expect.  Anger, sadness, frustration?  Suddenly she took a drink of her wine, then lowered her glass.  “Do you know why I left, Rafael?”

He shook his head.  “No.”

“Because you’re not wrong.”  Her laugh was empty, pained, and the wine glass tilted in her grasp.  “It’s been three days and I don’t know what the holdup is.  I don’t know if they even remember we’re here.”

He grabbed her wine glass and set it on the table.  “They do,” he said with more confidence than he felt.  “Of course they do.”

She sat down on the swing, and he sat next to her.  “All I keep thinking about is when I’ll see my kid...and what’s going to happen to us when we get back to New York.”

He wrapped an arm around her.  “What do you want to happen?”  He had no idea what her answer would be.  As much as they had talked about this before, that was in the abstract.  This, now, was real.  It was coming, around a corner they couldn’t yet see, but was close.

She looked at him then, cupped his cheek.  “I love you,” she said then, “and that isn’t going to change because of geography.”

He leaned in, breathing her in.  She smelled like salt air and sand, like hope and desire and need.  “I love you too, honey,” he murmured against her ear.  “I love you.”

She laughed, and this time it had an edge of humor in it.  “Enough to redo a swing we’ll never get to enjoy.”

“Well, take a picture,” he teased, then nudged her arm.  “I’ll build you one on your balcony in Manhattan.”

**************************************************

“It’s okay if things change,” she was murmuring against his skin.  “I understand...the stress of all of this…”

He caught her chin, pulled it from his shoulder.  “Don’t say that,” he insisted.  “Nothing is going to change.  This isn’t geographical, like you said.”  His hands slid to either side of her face.  “I love you.  I am in love with you.”

He felt her start to shake her head.  “Rafa, Olivia….”

“Hush,” he told her.  “Hush, hermosa…”

He brushed his lips over hers as he’d done hundreds of times, but this time felt different.  There was a space, a distance between them.  He didn’t know if it was their argument, or unresolved feelings, or the fact that everything about tomorrow was up in the air, but he hated the feeling of disconnection.  From the first time they had had sex, he had felt connected to her in a way he’d never really experienced with anyone else.  She had never lied to him, never insisted they were anything more or less than they were.  And yet here he was, unsure of what would be happening to either of them in the morning.

Could he promise his love?  His life?  She had a son, for God’s sake.  Somebody else’s child.  And anyone with eyes knew he came with all kinds of daddy issues.

Her hands were stroking up and down his bare torso, and he would be outright lying if he said it was anything other than heavenly.  Making love with this woman was incredible.  She understood his body, understood his mind.  She’d accepted everything he’d thrown at her and loved him in spite of it.  No, because of it….because? In spite of? He didn’t know anymore.  He was cupping her breast through her blouse, gently twisting the nipple as he’d done so many times.

She pulled back from him, just a step.  “I think I need to show some appreciation.”  Her fingers curled around one of the belt loops of his shorts.  “You worked so hard on that swing.  I’d hate for us to never enjoy it.”  Her hand tightened around the belt loop and gently tugged him toward the front door.

“Vanessa.”  Sure he’d had the fantasy.  Hell, he’d fantasized about doing it on the beach in front of the bungalow a million times.  In the water, even.  But she was serious.  This was their front porch.  They had neighbors.  And people slept with their windows open, didn’t they?  “I’m not sure this is a good idea…”

She took a step toward him but didn’t let go of his belt loop.  “If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” she said, “but I have it on good authority there are pillows and blankets out there.  And I can be very quiet.”  Her fingers traced along the back of his neck as she brushed her lips against the shell of his ear.  “Very quiet.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, feeling her fingers finally let go of the damn belt loop and ghost over his erection.  “But if we get caught you’re paying to get us out of trouble.”

She winked at him again, and taking him by the hand, led him to the porch.

It was dark, and the blue paint they’d recently added made the space seem even darker.  A soft breeze blew in off the ocean through the screens, and the scent of the ocean hung heavy in the air.  Vanessa slid her sandals off, then sat down on the corner of the swing.  Rafael followed her lead, and gently pulled her against him.  She pulled a blanket over them, then leaned down to kiss him.

Her hands were delicately stroking his hair, gently rubbing his scalp, and she wrapped a leg around his thigh.  “Did you see the moon?” she asked quietly.  “It’s so low tonight.”

“Mmm.”  He ran his hands over her ass, squeezing, enjoying the way she molded against him.  “And the stars.”  His tongue tangled with the tip of hers, slowly exploring, tasting.  He wondered if she was as wet as he was hard.  “Are you sure about this?”

He felt her hand move over the button on his shorts, popping it open and sliding down the zipper.  “Absolutely,” she murmured, “if you are.”  Her index finger ran over the tip of his cock, and then she pulled it out, between them.  He could see it glisten in the moonlight, and then she slipped it into her mouth.  “Yes?”

“Fuck,” he whispered, unsnapping her shorts and slipping his hand inside of her panties.  “Yes.  But you don’t play fair.”  She was wet, and he heard her catch her breath when he circled her clit in a quick and sudden rhythm.  “You do need to know, though that I don’t intend to spend all of our time on the porch.”  He stopped his stroking to ease her shorts and panties down.  She shimmied her hips to help, then tugged on his clothes to gain more access to his erection.

“Hmm,” she laughed softly in his ear, “Sounds like you have big plans for tonight.”

He helped her straddle him and she gently eased him inside.  “Fuck, Vanessa,” he sighed quietly.  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She snorted, louder than intended.  “That’s the plan, amigo.”

He couldn’t help himself at that and laughed, trying desperately to hide the sound, and his chest shook massively at the effort.  She tickled his armpits and he slapped her ass.

“Sshhh!” she giggled.  “You better hope nobody is out taking a late night walk!”

“Sshh yourself,” he snickered, then grabbed her hips and thrust upward once, twice, three times and she pressed her mouth to his chest and stifled a moan.  “Mmhmm, that’s what I thought,” he whispered in her ear, continuing his rhythm.

They were quiet then except for the soft sound of the swing rocking gently with their movements and the ocean waves breaking against the shore.  Rafael thrust forward and Vanessa rocked back against him repeatedly until eventually he moved her hair away from her ear and whispered, “I love you and I love fucking you and I don’t ever want this to end.”

Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and her mouth pressed flat against his skin.  He slid his hand between their bodies and rubbed her quick and hard and she whimpered.

She was tight and wet around him and he clutched hard at her hips.  He felt her teeth nip his earlobe.  “Oh God yes,” he hissed, pulling her hips down hard against him as he thrust upward and climaxed.  As he came back to himself, he realized she was gently rocking back and forth on him, and sucking his neck.

“Any suggestions on how we make it inside?” he murmured, and he heard her snicker against his neck. 

“Blankets,” she told him.  And she handed him one of the ones he had bought, before wrapping the one they had used around herself and ducking inside.

Glancing around, he realized how truly alone they were, and wrapped the blanket around himself.  Even if nobody used this swing again, he thought, he’d never regret putting time into it tonight.

God willing, he thought, they’d never use this swing again.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the Outer Banks of NC to Quantico, VA. Starting the journey home.

On Saturday afternoon, Rafael locked the shop and he followed Vanessa down the pathway headed toward the bungalow.  It was warm for April, and he could feel the hair on his neck starting to sweat.  “I need a haircut,” he called out, wiping at his neck.  “We could go before the movie tonight.”  The town was having a Star Wars movie festival, and considering their week, they both were looking forward to the distraction.  Vanessa had teased him earlier that morning, telling him if he was extra good with his light saber, she’d wrap up in a sheet and do her hair cinnamon roll style.  The movie didn’t start until eight, so they had time.  But now she was standing at the top of the dune and wasn’t moving.

“There’s not gonna be a movie tonight,” she told him.  Pointing toward the bungalow, she merely said, “Look.”

One Escalade was in the driveway, and a small nondescript moving truck.  There were already a host of people moving in and out quickly.

Rafael stood next to Vanessa, and was shocked that his first instinct was to grab her and hide, to take five more minutes here and get to end it on his terms, how he wanted.  Instead he nudged her arm.  “We’re going home.”

**********************************************************

Vanessa stepped from the porch into the living area.  “Bob,” she said, greeting Whitnauer by his first name.  “Don’t we even get the opportunity to pack our own stuff?”

“Good to see you too, Vanessa.”  He nodded to her, then to Rafael.  “Mr. Barba,” he greeted.  Turning back to Vanessa, he said, “No time.  You know how quickly these things turn around.  You’re lucky we’re doing this in the afternoon instead of in the middle of the night.  You two have an hour to go through and get anything you think might be important to you while the team gets the place sanitized.  There’s a couple duffle bags in the bedroom.”

Rafael looked from Vanessa to Whitnauer and back.  “He’s serious?  An hour?”  At the seriousness of her expression he snorted and headed toward the bedroom, Vanessa following.  “Will that swing fit in the bag?”

She tossed him one of the duffle bags.  “I thought you were gonna build one on my balcony.”

He didn’t say anything.  Rummaging through his chest of drawers, he began to toss in random items--the cufflinks he had acquired shortly after arriving, the socks she had bought him for Christmas, a sweatshirt from a novelty shop down the street.  A mug from the coffee shop.  He poked through the nighstand and tossed in a few toiletries, then paused at the half-used box of condoms.  “What do you want to do with these?” he asked.

She shrugged.  “Leave ‘em.  Maybe they’ll be lucky for the next folks here.”

He stared at her as she yanked clothes in her closet from one side to the other, grabbing random items.  “Surely this won’t be for another person in the program.”

“Of course not.”  She tossed a sweater he had bought her during the winter into her duffle bag.  “They’ll put it up for sale...but they need to sanitize it before they do.  You know, make it look like any old person was here.  Anonymity and all.”  She opened her nightstand and retrieved the photos of Max.  “It’s why we only have an hour.  They’ll be done with it all before dark.”

“You could have prepped me,” he told her.  “We could have been going through all of this all week.  Making decisions about what was important.  Deciding what we could leave behind.”

“I’m sorry it got past me,” she snapped, “but I haven’t done this before either.”  She ducked into the bathroom and he could hear her digging through the cabinets.

“Stop,” he told her.  “We can replace everything in there.”

She spun around, toothbrush and paste in her hand, but he was within reach of her.  He could see the agitation on her face, the anxiety and fear and frenetic energy.  And he knew his face looked nearly the same.

“It’s gonna be okay.”  He pulled her close, and her arms were sandwiched between them, but he didn’t care.  “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, closer to her ear, squeezing her gently.  “We’re gonna be okay, Ness.”

And he felt her arms loosen and wrap around him, squeezing back.  “Please keep saying that to me,” she whispered, pressing her face into his shoulder.  “Please.”

*****************************************************

Vanessa was climbing into the back of the Escalade when she heard it, the tiny voice saying something to “mistuh ed”, and she watched Rafael step back down from the Escalade and turn around.

“Brady!”  Dina was right behind him, grabbing his hand.  Glancing from the car to its drivers, she pulled her son more closely to her, then said, “Ed, is everything okay?”

Rafael looked into the car at Vanessa, who gave a short nod and a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, then he turned to face Dina.  “Yeah, Dina...everything is okay.  Liz and I...we’ve got to go back to New York for awhile.”

“But I gonna miss you, Mistuh Ed...you build a weally good snowman.  And Miss Liz makes weally good hot cocoa.”

Rafael bent down so he was eye to eye with his little friend.  “Yes, she does,” he said.  “I will miss you too, but I’m so glad we got to be friends.”  He looked up at Dina.  “When we get settled, Liz and I will be in touch.”  He smiled and stood, noticing the worried look etched on Dina’s features.  “I promise everything is fine.”

She leaned forward and hugged him tightly, and Brady clung to his leg, until Whitnauer cleared his throat from the front passenger seat.  “I have to go,” he said.  Ruffling Brady’s hair, he said, “Take care of your momma...don’t let her climb up on any stepladders!”

“I won’t!” Brady shook his head vigorously.  “Bye Mistuh Ed!  Don’t forget to be in touch wif us!  Bye Miss Liz!”  He waved at Vanessa as Rafael climbed into the car and shut the door.  Rafael watched Dina pull Brady back against her, and the Escalade pulled out of the driveway.

They were a mile down the road before Vanessa said, low, “I didn’t say goodbye because I couldn’t.”

And he pressed his hand in hers and said, “I understand.”

******************************************************

It was night when they reached Quantico.

Whitnauer had explained that they would be spending two nights here.  Tomorrow they would be completing exit interviews and paperwork to re-enter their old lives, and on Monday they would be flown back to New York to be reunited with their loved ones.  

They had been given two well-appointed suites at a local lhotel; Vanessa and Rafael had looked at one another for a moment, and then she had taken his hand and turned to Whitnauer.  “We only need one,” she had said bluntly, and to his credit, he had nodded and handed her both keys to one of the suites.  

“You’ll have a bag of things delivered to your room within the hour,” he promised, and with that, he had left them.  Vanessa had handed Rafael one of the keys, and he had unlocked the suite and led them inside.

She immediately went into the bathroom, while he explored the rest of the room, including the well-stocked fridge and the king-sized bed.  He was perusing the room service menu when she came out and climbed on the bed.  “Nice,” she commented.  “Our swing didn’t have a thread count like this.”

He peered at her over the menu.  “Our swing was on a porch.”  Turning the page, he asked, “You hungry?”

“I could eat...what’s in the fridge?”

“Eh, a bunch of candy, but there’s a mini bar next to it with some decent alcohol...does the FBI pick up the tab for this?  I’m trying to decide how much of a steak our little coffee shop can afford.”

She snorted.  “A salisbury one, probably.”  She rested her head on her hand.  “I’m sorry I’ve been a total nut today.”

He reached over and stroked her hair.  “You haven’t.  It’s been highly stressful for both of us.  But we’re going to be okay.  Monday you’ll see Max.  That’s great news, right?”

She smiled.  “Yeah...and you’ll see your mom.”

“Yeah.” He lay the menu down and turned to look at her.  They were laying, facing each other, and he could feel butterflies churning in his stomach.  “I need something from you.”  His voice was soft, unsure, and she caught his hand with hers.

“What is it?”

“I need…” His voice caught in his throat.  Was it even fair to ask this?  “I need to hear that you love me, but only if you do, and if you don’t, I’ll understand...it’s been so much of a hellish day and I just can’t even seem to settle myself down to breathe--”

She kissed him then, hand gently to his face, interrupting the waterfall of words that had just escaped him.  “I love you,” she told him, quietly but firmly.  “I love you, Rafael Barba.  I am in love with you.  You keep telling me we’ll be okay, and I’ll keep telling you I love you, and we will and I do and there’s no doubting either one.  Deal?”  She rubbed her nose to his, giving the eskimo kiss he was so fond of, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Deal.”  He kissed her again, soft and chaste.  “Ready for salisbury steak?”

“Order for yourself,” she told him.  “I’m getting a ribeye.”

******************************************

Whitnauer gestured to a comfortable chair.  “Please, sit.”  He made his way to a counter in the corner of the room.  “Coffee?” he asked, turning back to look at Rafael.

“No,” Rafael shook his head, sinking into the chair Whitnauer had motioned toward.  “Thank you.  No offense, but your coffee here is shit.”

Whitnauer grinned at that.  “I guess we deserve that, after placing you where we did.  Did you sleep all right last night?”

Rafael crossed his arms over his chest.  “Fine,” he lied.  Truth be told, neither he nor Vanessa had slept more than an hour.  They had spent most of the night talking about their future and their past, trying to calm their anxieties.  “You want to explain to me why Vanessa and I are being questioned separately?  We’re not the ones in the wrong here.”

“Of course you’re not.”  Whitnauer sat across from him.  “This is standard whenever we bring someone out of witness protection.  Like anything, there’s protocol.  We’re just going to debrief you two today so we can get you home tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Rafael commented, “I understand the timeline you explained to us.  But we’ve been separated today because?”

Whitnauer smiled.  “Rafael, you’ve been separated because we’re expecting a phone call for each of you in the next few minutes, not because we’re suspicious of anything you’ve done.”  He took a long sip of his coffee, then leaned forward.  “I understand that you were close friends with Lieutenant Benson?”

The question caught him off guard, and he stuttered, “Yes...but I don’t see what--”

“She’s with your mother right now, letting her know where you are and that you’re okay.  They should be calling any minute.”

His breath caught in his chest.  The guilt he had felt toward leaving his mother nearly choked him, and he suddenly realized just how much he had missed his relationship with his mother.  “My mother--Liv is with my mom?” 

Whitnauer’s phone rang then, and he glanced at Rafael and nodded.  “Facetime--I’m going to put them on the screen,” he said, then motioned toward a computer on the desk between them.  Before Rafael could answer, he could hear his mother’s tearful voice.  “Mijo….Rafi, mijo, mijo...te amo, Rafi, te amo…”

His eyes flooded with tears as he saw his mother on the computer screen, tears streaking her beautiful face.  One of her hands was trembling in front of her mouth.  Behind her, he could see Olivia, smiling, eyes bright.

“It’s me, Mami...Mami, it’s me...it’s okay.  Te amo, Mami.”  His voice broke, and as he heard his mother’s sobs of joyful relief, he choked back sobs of his own.  Whitnauer handed him a box of tissues.

He was going home.

*******************************************

“Go ahead and have a seat.”  Maria Bellasai motioned toward a comfortable couch, and Vanessa sank down on it.  “You know the basics for today, right?  Debriefing so we can get you home tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’m aware of the protocol.”  Vanessa had only met Agent Bellasai in passing but heard good things about her.  She was a go-getter, from what Whitnauer had said a couple years ago, and did good work in the field.  Bobby had spoken highly of her as well, and to impress Bobby was no small feat.  “So you have questions for me?  Needs assessment?  Referring me for sessions before I’m allowed back to work?”

Maria smiled.  “Hold that thought.”  She stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind her, and Vanessa was left alone.

She wondered, briefly, what Rafael was doing.  She knew he was suspicious when Whitnauer and Bellasai had split them up; she could see it in his face.  She kept trying to remind herself that these people had made sure they were taken care of by the marshals, had looked after her family, and had found and eliminated the threat against them.  But she had to admit, even as an agent herself, it felt uncomfortable to be on this side.

“Dr. Rayden?” Agent Bellasai stepped back into the room.  “I have someone here who would like to see you, if that’s okay.”

Vanessa stood and could hardly catch a breath before the doorway was filled with Bobby’s form.  She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting--maybe seeing him tomorrow?-but the sight of him suddenly made the reality of returning to her life feel joyfully intense, and she moved toward him quickly.  “Bobby…”

His arms opened and she collapsed into them tearfully.  “Hey, hey,” he soothed, stroking her back gently.  “It’s so good to see you, honey.”  She felt his arms tighten around her and his voice thicken with emotion.  “So, so good.  You look fantastic.”  He pulled her back, an arm’s width away, and leaned down slightly.  She smiled through her tears.  “As beautiful as ever,” he said, then pulled her into a massive hug again.  

She had always loved the way she felt in his arms, in his hugs.  As though he would never let her go, as though she were safe from the world’s troubles.  She eased away from him slightly.  “Max?  Is he here?”

“No--they needed you to debrief today and Whitnauer was firm about it.  Said you could see him tomorrow.  He couldn’t stop me from coming to work, though, and I decided I needed to do some research here at Quantico today.  Agent Bellasai was quite helpful in getting me a few minutes with you.”

“Thank you.”  Vanessa nodded toward the agent still standing by the door, and Maria returned the smile.  “So have you told him I’m coming back?  Does he have any idea who I even am anymore?”

Bobby guided her to the couch.  “Of course he does.  We have talked about you every day, looked at your picture.  He knows you had to go away and you didn’t want to.  I’ve been telling him you will be coming back.  We circled Monday on the calendar, yesterday.  I’ve told him how much you miss him.”  He reached over and wiped a tear off of her cheek.  “But honey, just know...he’s used to being with me all the time right now...he doesn’t remember your old place...I’m not sure if he’s going to want to go with you right off…”

She nodded quickly.  “I understand.  I want to do what’s best for him.”  Suddenly she pressed her face into her hands.  “I’ve missed him so very much.”

“I know,” Bobby soothed, rubbing her back again, “I know you have.”

She leaned against his chest again, feeling his hand stroking her back, and let herself be comforted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I will confirm paternity--Max's dad is Robert Goren from L&O: Criminal Intent. It's possible their back story may come into play at a later time, but for now, just know that after Goren left NYPD, he was hired as a trainer/instructor by the FBI. He travels between the New York office and Quantico for work in this little world.
> 
> As always, I love and appreciate your comments and kudos so much! Thank you for all the encouragement on this journey!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He closed his eyes, trying to let go of his fear, his sense of foreboding, to just enjoy their time together.  She was right--they had lives, relationships, before all of this, and no matter how he’d thought about it, he still wasn’t sure how they would marry the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing this. Consider yourself warned...for whatever, lol!
> 
> I'm just so happy you're reading this! Thanks so much for the kudos and comments--they keep me going!

Exhausted and relieved, Rafael unlocked the hotel suite, kicked his shoes off, and collapsed on the bed.

His conversation with his mother had been the highlight of his day, and he couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow, to hear all of the stories of his family in Miami and Cuba, to see her gesticulate wildly and talk about school and her friends and the political climate of the city.

The rest of the day hadn’t been nearly as exciting, but he no longer held reservations about the FBI’s purpose in the day.  Sure, they had asked him a lot of questions about the Abraham case and Pippa in particular, but that made sense considering she had hired the hit on him.  He had also met with a psychologist and been examined by a doctor at the medical complex, and was assured everything was confidential.  If he had any ongoing issues, psychological or physical, due to his time in witness protection, it would be financially covered.  

He hadn’t anticipated being this tired.  It was nearly five, and he knew Vanessa should be back any time.  Telling himself he would wake up when she opened the door, he closed his eyes to rest them for just a minute.  

******************************************************

When he opened his eyes again, it was dark in the room, and Vanessa was lying next to him, holding his hand.

“Hi there,” he smiled, voice gravelly from sleep, and leaned over to kiss her.  She squeezed his hand and opened her mouth, touching his lips with hers softly.  “I got to talk to my mom.  Did you get to talk to Max?”

She shook her head.  “No, but Bobby was here.  I guess he flew in early this morning.”

“Ah.”  He tucked her hair behind her ear.  “Was it good to see him?”

“Yes...so good.  I can’t believe we’re back...we’re ourselves again and we have these lives we’ve built.  Real lives and real relationships.  How was your mom?”

He smiled.  “Tearful.  But happy.  Probably the happiest I’ve ever made her.”

She chuckled softly, then tweaked his nose.  “You’re a dork.  But I understand what you mean.”  She put a hand on either side of his face, and stroked the corners of his mouth with her thumbs.  There was a light in her eyes, a joy he hadn’t seen before.  “I see my baby tomorrow.  I get to hold my son.  It’s been two hundred and eighty-seven days, and I get to hold him again.”

Something dark, sinister tried to creep into his brain, reminding him yet again that if he hadn’t been so damn foolish to begin with, this never would have happened to her.  She lost those days--she even knew how many--because of his self-centeredness.  How she could love someone who had stolen so much from her--

He halted the thought firmly and kissed her thumbs.  “He’s going to be over the moon to see you, baby.  So, so happy to see his mother...I just know it.”  Kissing her hand again, he said, “I know we haven’t talked about it, but I’m sure you--he--will need some space...I figured I would go to my mom’s while you saw Max tomorrow?  She wants me to stay there.  I don’t have a place anymore.  She got rid of it.  But I can meet you tomorrow night, wherever you want...see how the day has gone…”

She had stilled and was staring at their hands together, looking deep in thought.  He squeezed her hand and teased, “Hey, you still with me?”

“Yeah.  Yes, of course.”  She met his eyes and smiled.  “Bobby managed to keep my apartment from being put on the market, but he’s already said Max probably won’t be comfortable going anywhere with me, and I’m sure he’s right.  He hasn’t seen me in almost a year, and he’s so little.  I’m going to Bobby’s from the airport tomorrow.  I don’t know about tomorrow night.  I guess it will all just depend on how Max handles everything.  I hadn’t thought that far into it--if things were going well, Bobby has a spare bedroom and I had thought I might just crash there.”  

He felt the pain and disappointment cross his features before he could stop it, and he knew that she saw--he just wasn’t sure how much or what she thought it was.  “Only if he doesn’t want me to leave,” she clarified.  “Rafa, you know I love you and want to be with you.  But I need to be with my son, and hey?  You need to be with your mom too?”

He smiled at her, to humor her.  “Of course.  You’re right.  I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“I love you,” she said again.  “And we’ll be texting each other all day, I’m sure.”  She slid closer to him on the bed.  “I promise, Rafa.”  She ran her fingers over his ear, then through his hair.  “Want to?” she asked, kissing his jaw slowly, gently.  “Want me to remind you how much I love you?”

He closed his eyes, trying to let go of his fear, his sense of foreboding, to just enjoy their time together.  She was right--they had lives, relationships, before all of this, and no matter how he’d thought about it, he still wasn’t sure how they would marry the two.

Right now he wanted to be doing just about anything other than thinking.

So he turned toward her and nipped her bottom lip, then sucked on it gently.  “Yes please,” he murmured into her open mouth, “remind me how much you love me.  And keep in mind it’s gonna have to last for awhile, so make it good.”

Her eyes opened comically wide, then she burst into giggles and smacked his ass.  “Don’t worry,” she teased, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget.”

***********************************************************

She had made good on her promise.

In the end, he was awfully glad he had gotten a nap in, because there was no way he would have had the stamina without one.  She focused solely on him, bringing him to the edge over and over but denying him, until he finally gasped, “Vanessa, enough,” and bent her over the desk.  She had laughed at his urgency as he fucked her and came, until he was biting and sucking her thighs, then her clit, and brought her twice.  She wasn’t laughing then.

They had fallen into bed after, the way they always slept, with her spooned in his arms.  He didn’t want to think how this might be the last night he’d be sleeping like this.  She felt like home, smelled like home, and refusing to let his mind go anywhere else, he drifted off with her snug against him.

******************************************************

“No!  I no wike you!  Get away from me!”  Max twisted out of her arms and ran to Bobby.  “Daddy, make her go away!”

Vanessa looked up desperately at Bobby, who was now holding her son.  “You heard him,” Bobby said, sad but resigned.  “Leave.”

She felt the tears blind her as she grasped for the door handle.  How had this gone so wrong?  She left the apartment and somehow found herself at Rafael’s mother’s house.  He opened the door.  “Vanessa,” he said, sounding surprised.  “I thought you were with Max and Bobby.”

“I was, but...it didn’t work out.”  She wrapped her arms around him, and the tears came, wetting his shirt, and she clung to him until she realized his hands were gently patting her back.  He wasn’t embracing her.  She pulled back.  “Is everything okay?”

Olivia stepped next to him, stunning in a red dress with a sharp, lowcut neckline.  “It will be,” she answered.  “It almost is.”  She smiled at Rafael, handing him a glass of wine.  He smiled back at her, eyes full of adoration, before turning back to Vanessa.

“Wine?” he asked.  “We were just about to toast.  New relationships and all.”

She stepped away from them.  Liv pressed her body against Rafa’s firmly and kissed him, deep and passionately, sliding her hand under his collar, and Vanessa could see the mark she had left there the night before, at the hotel in Quantico.  “Wait,” she stammered, pointing at his neck, “he’s mine...you can see, I did that, I put that there…”

Liv turned to her, smiling again.  “Out with the old, in with the new, right Rafa?”  They both chuckled, and then Liv’s lips covered the mark on his neck, sucking his skin.

When she awoke, she could hear him in the shower.  It gave her time to settle her breathing and the trembling in her body.

***************************************************

They were seated on the private plane for the forty-five minute flight from Quantico to JFK, and she was nervously flipping through her phone.  Rafael had settled into the seat across from her and was stretching out.  “Remind me to go like this the next time I have to fly.  You’ve never mentioned this particular benefit of working with the FBI.”  He stretched his arms over his head, folding them behind him, before realizing she hadn’t responded.  “You okay?”

She glanced up from her phone and shot him a tentative smile.  “Yeah, sure.”  Seeing his raised eyebrow, she put her phone down and leaned forward.  “I’m good.  How are you?”

He leaned forward too, closing the space between them.  “I’m happy to be going home.” He reached over and squeezed her knee.  “I’m happy that WE are going home.  That we’ll see our families.”  His fingers tangled with hers, and after glancing at the agents accompanying them and seeing them busy in conversation, he leaned forward and kissed her fingers.  Quietly he said, “And I’m glad we had last night.  It’s made me feel a little better about...this.  This space about to happen.”

She wanted to kiss him then, to unbuckle and curl in his lap and reassure him that she could never  _ not _ love him.  It seemed so ridiculously insane that she could want to be home as much as she did, yet terrified she was going to lose the only person she’d ever felt truly accepted her.  

But she didn’t kiss him and offer reassurances.  She was struggling even to ask for them.

“Just remember,” she reminded him, “the memory marker I gave you.”  And she tugged lightly at his collar, over the bruise on his neck.

He grinned then, and leaned back, looking fairly pleased with himself.  “There’s more than one,” he tossed out casually.  “I found a few this morning.”  His eyes raked over her, then he added, “I think you have a couple to remind you of me, as well.”

She sat back and picked her phone back up.  “You’re a lech,” she teased him.  “Seriously, an octopus has less suction.”

He snorted then and she busied herself back with her email, grinning into her phone.

***********************************************

The plane had taxied to the gate, and they were gathering their things, when she felt him tug at the back pocket of her jeans.  

“Hey,” he said, low.  “Before we go, I just want to tell you again...we’re gonna be okay.”

She smiled, remembering their deal that he reassure her they would be okay.  Her part was reassuring him that she loved him.  That was easy.  “I love you,” she told him, smiling, then leaned over and kissed his lips gently, ignoring the presence of the other agents.  Grabbing her bag, she turned and followed the agents off the plane, Rafael behind her.

As they entered by the gate, Rafael barely trailing her, they both heard a woman’s loud cry of “Rafael!”  Before Vanessa could register what was happening, he had nudged past her and was throwing his arms around an older woman she’d only seen once or twice over the years in passing.  His mother, she realized suddenly, then saw Olivia grinning at her and heading her way.

“Vanessa!”  Bobby caught her by the arm.  She had nearly walked past him in the fray, her attention turned toward Rafael and his mom.  Surprised, she turned toward the tug on her sleeve and heard it:

“Momma?”

He was in Bobby’s arms, looking at her with a little bit of a puzzled expression.  His hair was dark brown and wavy like his dad’s, and his eyes were dark brown and shaped like hers, and he no longer had the pudgy baby face she remembered so clearly.  His legs were longer and he was in jeans and sneakers and a tee-shirt she had bought him a year before on sale that he could grow into.  And he was beautiful.  “Momma?” he said again as she stared, her eyes welling with tears.  “Do you ‘member me, Momma?”

And then her arms were around his little body, hugging him with every fiber of her being.  “Max,” she said over and over again.  “My baby, my Max.  I could never forget you.  Not for one minute.  Momma loves you, baby.  Momma loves you so much.”

Max held her face in his little hands and said, “I ‘member you, Momma.  I ‘member your happy face.” 

She pressed him even closer, kissing his cheek.  Liv had put a hand on her shoulder and was welcoming her home, and Bobby was tearfully guiding them out of the way of the crowd, but all she knew was Max. All she needed was there again, and she was home.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She stared at him, surprised, then took a sip of her wine and leaned back slowly in the chair.  “That woman, the FBI agent? The short one with the little boy. The one who saved you.”
> 
> “Yes.”  He looked her straight in the eye then, growing serious.  “I’m in love with her.”
> 
> Lucia regarded him silently for a moment.  Finally, she nodded once. “Good. I like character.  And Rafael? Don’t fuck this up.”

_ VR:  I saw you and your mom.  I bet she’s overjoyed right now. _

_ RB:  Yeah, she’s really happy.  So am I.  And so are you and some little kid I saw growing on your hip. ;-) _

_ VR:  You read me well. _

_ RB:  It’s a talent. _

******************************************

Bobby paid the delivery guy for the pizza and deposited it on the kitchen table.  “Anyone hungry?”

“Me, Daddy!” Max cried, jumping up from his spot on the floor next to Vanessa.  “Momma, do you wike pizza?  Me and Daddy WOVE pizza!”

She grinned at him, handing back the legos he had shown her.  “I sure do!  Let’s get some!”

Three paper plates and cups filled, and they settled into the living area of Bobby’s small apartment.  “Oh, you’re showing Mom your hard work, huh?” Bobby asked, nodding toward the lego contraption Max had built.  Turning to Vanessa, he said, “Max loves his legos.”

“And dinosaurs,” Max proclaimed.  “And twains.  Do you ‘member, Momma?  You ‘member what your wittle boy wikes?”

She couldn’t help but laugh.  “I do remember how much you liked trains.  But I think you started liking dinosaurs and legos since I’ve been gone.” She smiled, stroking his head.  “You’ve grown up a lot!”

“Yeah, I have,” he agreed, “but don’t worry, Daddy says I still gotted a lotta time to grow.  Are you gonna have to weave again?”

She sighed.  “I hope not.  I hope I never have to leave like that again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you missed me, wight?”

She felt herself tear up.  “Right.”  Handing him the lego creation, she said, “Now tell me what comes next.”

*******************************************

_ RB:  How can you tell if your Cuban mother missed you? _

_ VR:  I don’t know.  I’m not Cuban. _

_ RB:  The entire city will be sold out of pork, beans, and plantains.  I’m set for the rest of the year. _

“You know, I never fully believed you had died,” Lucia told him, slinging more plantains on his plate.  As soon as there was an empty spot anywhere, she automatically filled it with food again.  “I had a feeling, you know.  A mother knows.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled with his mouth full of roast pork.  “I heard Olivia had lunch with you several times.”

Lucia beamed.  “Olivia is a doll.  And she loves you very much, mijo.  Respects, too.  She spoke so highly of you every time we were together.  You’re lucky to have such a friend.”

He nodded.  He agreed.

Liv had accompanied them back to his mother’s place.   While Lucia went into the kitchen to start to prepare lunch, he and Liv had stepped onto the balcony.

“It’s so good to see you, Rafa,” she said, hugging him again.  “I’ve missed talking to you so much--I guess I always took our friendship for granted.  It took about two days for me to realize how much I missed my sounding board.”

He broke into a half smile.  “That long, huh?”  Then he shoved his hands in his pants pockets.  “I can’t ever repay you for the kindness you have shown my mom.  You truly went above and beyond, and I want you to know that I’m aware and appreciate it immensely.”

She touched his arm.  “You would have done the same for me.  Rafa, you’re one of my best friends.  I’ve missed you every day and I’m so, so glad you’re back home.” 

He wrapped his arms around her then, hugging her tightly, and felt it returned.  “I’m glad I’m back too.”

“Vanessa looked over the moon at the airport.  Is she doing okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.  She was really excited to see Max.”  

He suddenly realized as he stood there, next to Olivia, that it was Vanessa on his mind, in his thoughts.  He had never before wanted to be somewhere that Olivia wasn’t, but now he did.  The realization hit him hard, and the satisfaction and happiness he felt from it propelled him to continue.

“Liv, just so you know, Vanessa and I are involved.”  He unconsciously crossed his arms in front of his body.  “I don’t know how we’ll make everything work, but we intend to do just that.  I love her, and I want to make her happy.”  He shook his head.  “I’m sure there will be complications at some point in this with our jobs and whatnot, but I think we both are willing to do whatever is necessary to build what we have.”

She was smiling at him, eyes welling with tears.  “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear that, Rafa.”  She embraced him again, squeezing tightly, and said, “You guys have made it through hell.  The rest will be smooth sailing, comparatively.”

“Let’s hope so,” he chuckled, hugging her back.

“Lunch is ready,” Lucia announced.  “Livvy, can you stay, honey?”

Liv had shaken her head.  “No, I need to get back to work, but thank you for letting me be part of your homecoming!”

“We were both glad you’re here,” Lucia had said confidently, hugging Liv herself.  “You’re such a blessing to us.”

*****************************************

_ VR:  Guess what this is? (photo attached) _

_ RB:  Legos? _

_ VR:  Thanks, Captain Obvious. _

_ RB:  Sorry, I don’t speak three year old very well. _

_ VR:  Neither do I, apparently.  I was hoping you could help me out, lol! _

Max had fallen asleep halfway through the story she was reading to him.  She closed his door quietly and came into the living room, sitting next to Bobby on the couch.  “He is even more perfect than I remember,” she sighed, feeling completely content.

Bobby smiled.  “Yeah, he’s a good kid.  You made that, you know.”

She leaned back.  “I think I had help.”  She nudged his ribs gently.  “Does he really remember me or did you tell him that?”

“Nah, he remembers.”  Bobby leaned over and picked up a photo album on the coffee table.  “Here.  It’s his Momma book.”

She opened the book and found a scrapbook full of photos of her.  Her alone, her with Bobby, her with Max and Bobby, her with just Max.  The day he was born, when he came home from the hospital, a trip to the park.  Photos she knew Bobby hadn’t taken.  Seeming to read her mind, he said, “Olivia helped me with some of those...they were on your phone.  She sent them to me before they destroyed it.”  He flipped the book to a picture of she and Max at the beach, water lapping at their feet.  Both of them were laughing.  “That’s your happy face,” he mused, smiling.  “Every time he sees that picture he says, “My momma has a happy face.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she settled for a soft chuckle and wiped a tear from her eye.

****************************************

_ RB:  I told Liv we’re involved. _

_ VR:  Did you tell her I corrupted you? _

_ RB:  Well, she was concerned about the bruises.  She wanted to know if she should take you into custody. _

_ VR:  Ooh, handcuffs.  Something we haven’t tried. _

_ RB:  We’re home now.  And I have a whole drawer of things you haven’t tried. _

_ VR:  Promises, promises. _

They were sitting on his mother’s balcony, people watching and enjoying a nice bottle of wine.  He had changed into his own clothes that his mother had thoughtfully laundered for him a few days before.

“Mijo,” she said, “Livvy isn’t seeing anyone anymore.”

He ran his finger down the edge of his glass.  “Well, she’s probably busy, Mami.  I’d be lying if I said I’m disappointed it didn’t work out with Ed Tucker, but Liv is an attractive woman.  I’m sure she’ll find someone when she’s ready.”

Lucia eyed him sideways.  “Now’s your chance, mijo.  You don’t get second ones very often.”

He smiled thoughtfully.  “That’s very true.  But I’m already involved with someone.”

She stared at him, surprised, then took a sip of her wine and leaned back slowly in the chair.  “That woman, the FBI agent?  The short one with the little boy.  The one who saved you.”

“Yes.”  He looked her straight in the eye then, growing serious.  “I’m in love with her.”

Lucia regarded him silently for a moment.  Finally, she nodded once.  “Good.  I like character.  And Rafael?  Don’t fuck this up.”

****************************************************

_ RB:  Enjoying this pinot and thinking of you (photo attached of glass) _

_ VR:  Drink one for me.  How’s your afternoon? _

_ RB:  Peaceful.  Wine and people watching.  Always interesting. _

_ VR:  We napped and now we’re off to the park. _

_ RB:  Have fun.  I love you. _

They were on a bench at the park, watching Max play in the sandbox with other kids, when Bobby said, “I have your keys at home if you want to go check out your apartment.  I only had a little while to run through it the other day, but I washed your sheets and stocked your fridge with basics so you’d at least be able to hit the ground running.”

“Really?”  She was surprised.  He had never taken initiative like that when they were together.  “I really appreciate that.  I wasn’t sure what to do about tonight.”

He looked at her for a moment as though he were pondering what to say.  “I don’t want to be presumptuous here, so you can tell me it’s none of my business, but aren’t you and Barba involved?”

The question caught her off guard, but in hindsight she knew she should have been expecting it.  She and Rafael weren’t hiding.  They had shared a hotel suite, kissed in front of agents.  Of course somebody would have told Bobby.  Before she could answer, he said, “Maria mentioned it, but I know you.”  He reached over and ran a finger over her hand reassuringly.  “You seem very...attuned to each other, and I can imagine after what you’ve been through, it would be very natural to fall into a relationship like that.”

She pulled back, sitting up.  “What does that mean?”

He sighed.  “It just means that I’m trying to let you know that I know you’re involved with another man, that you have strong feelings for him, and I want to be the best coparent in this situation as I can be.  Max deserves that.  We all do.  And you, honey…” he paused, looking away to the sandbox.  “You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy.”

Her heart was beating quickly.  “I love him,” she confessed.  “I’m in love with him.”

Bobby smirked.  “At the risk of being completely inappropriate here, why do you think I washed your sheets?”

*********************************************

_ VR:  So you got any big plans tonight? _

_ RB:  Nah, just hanging out with the ‘rents.  My GF said she needs to wash her hair tonight, so it’s a big night in. _

_ VR:  You should come over.  I have clean sheets.  My ex washed them for us. _

_ RB: _

_ RB:  That is so awesomely twisted I can’t even begin to process it. _

_ RB:  Text me the address.  Time? _

_ VR:  Whenever you’re ready, big boy.  I”m already home. _

He didn’t know why in the hell he felt so nervous.  He’d had less nerves on first dates and meeting parents.  

He’d brought a duffle bag with a change of clothes for the morning and a few toiletries.  To be honest, he had been shocked when she had texted him telling him to come over.  He had written tonight off in his mind, certain that she would be spending the night with her son and her ex.  He had been trying to convince himself that the ex would still be an ex in the morning.  He knocked on the door loudly.

She opened it almost immediately, breaking into a huge smile upon seeing him, and he suddenly felt like he could breathe again.

“Hey handsome.”  She kissed him before he even took a step in the door, and when they broke away she motioned for him to follow her inside.

Her place was modest and looked like she had never left.  There were a few books and magazines scattered on the coffee table and some bills at the kitchen table.  He dropped his duffle near the front door and hung his jacket on the coatrack, toeing off his shoes by the wall.

She was watching him get comfortable.  “Where’s your stuff?” she asked.

He pointed to the duffle bag.  “Right there.  You saw me bring it in.”

“No.  I mean all of your stuff.”

“Storage,” he said, following her to the couch.  “Hopefully I’ll be able to go through it tomorrow, but I have a few changes of clothes and all the necessities.”

She nodded.  “Well, maybe we can work on cleaning out the bedroom closet tomorrow to make room for you.”

“Vanessa.”  His eyes were serious, sincere.  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“You don’t?”

It was a fair question.  They had been living together for the last ten months.  He felt disjointed at the thought of being without her.  They were too much of a partnership, a pair.  “I do,” he confirmed.  “I absolutely do...but what about Max?”

She took his hand in hers.  “What about him?  Does it make you nervous living with him?  I understand if it does, if it feels like rushing things--”

“No.”  He squeezed her hand.  “I just don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable.”

“He’s going to be living with Bobby most of the week to start,” she explained.  “He’s getting used to me again and he’ll learn you.  And we’ll all learn how to be a family, together.”

His eyes teared up then, and he kissed her hand.  “You’re very sure about this.”

“Yes,” she told him, then cupped his cheek with her palm.  “You belong here, Rafael.  In my apartment, in my family, in my life.  We belong together.”  She leaned forward and kissed him gently before whispering, “You also belong in my bed.  Want to try it out?”

She felt him smile as he kissed her.  “You bet,” he whispered back.  “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we are reaching the end of our journey here! I'm estimating one more chapter and an epilogue, but I'm debating a part two, and if you have an opinion, please feel free to let me know. :-)
> 
> Kudos and comments, folks! You make it rain!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking off his watch, Rafael set it on the nightstand that seemed unoccupied.  Well, previously unoccupied, he reminded himself. You belong here, she had said.  You belong in my bed and my apartment and my life.  I want you.  And she hadn’t hesitated or looked away.  He had believed her, as much now as he ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting an epilogue to this very soon.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading--it's been wonderful sharing this story!

Taking off his watch, Rafael set it on the nightstand that seemed unoccupied.  Well, previously unoccupied, he reminded himself.   _ You belong here,  _ she had said.   _ You belong in my bed and my apartment and my life.  I want you. _  And she hadn’t hesitated or looked away.  He had believed her, as much now as he ever had.

He walked over to her closet and hung up his jacket, then discarded his button down and his jeans, leaving on his undershirt and his boxers.  He folded the discarded clothes and lay them on the back of a chair that was completely not his style but reminded him of the “shabby-chic” decor of the bungalow.  It brought a smile to his face.  

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled off his socks and tossed them into the chair as well.  

Her bed was deep and comfortable, but not as big as his had been.  His old place had been completely modern, including the california king-size bed he had invested in upon his move to Manhattan.  A firm mattress with egyptian cotton sheets that had a higher thread count than he cared to admit.  He had been spoiled, and he had liked it.  But he hadn’t been spoiled like this.

He hadn’t been loved, adored, accepted.

She stepped out of the bathroom then, turning the light off behind her and smiling awkwardly at him as though they hadn’t done this every night for the last ten months.  Her hair was down and a soft blush colored her cheeks,, and she was biting her bottom lip in a way that made him want to comfort her.  

It was then that he realized she was wearing the negligee he had bought her for Christmas.  

“Wow, look at you.”  He stood and approached her, running his thumbs under the spaghetti straps.  “I didn’t know if you had rescued this or not.”

“Of course I did.  You bought it for me, and I wore it the first night you told me you loved me.”

His heart leapt in his chest.  Yes, he did and yes, she did and yes, he loved her even more today than he had those months ago on Christmas Eve.  His fingers moved up to trace her hair and tuck it behind her ear.  “I remember.  You look even more stunning in it tonight.”

Vanessa caught his face in her hands.  “You’re a liar, but we won’t get caught up in little details right now.”  She leaned forward and kissed him, taking the very air from his lungs, making him feel as if he couldn’t live without her.  But hadn’t he been warming up to that feeling for awhile now?  

She pressed her forehead to his.  “Wanna try out my bed?  I promise it’s comfortable.”

He kissed her forehead.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

****************************************

They had been kissing for what seemed like hours, slowly and deeply and deliciously sensually.  Every nerve ending in her body felt alive.  He hadn’t removed a bit of the negligee, hadn’t even tried, and he still had on his tee and boxers.  His hands had been delicately toying with her breasts, fingers tracing one taut nipple at a time, occasionally squeezing before cupping her entire breast in his palm, content with its weight in his hand.  Vanessa didn’t know when she’d felt so turned on.  She had had less patience, and had slid her hands hungrily under his shirt, lightly tugging the hair on his chest, then moving to his back to rub and scratch and  _ encourage. _

She had never realized how much Rafael was a master in the art of kissing until now.  

His hands were dancing over her bare arms, then over her ribs, her stomach, her hips, as though he were memorizing her.  His fingers ghosted over her pelvis, and she arched up, trying to engage him in some kind of contact, but instead of touching her where she wanted him, his hand landed back on her hip and he pulled his lips from hers, then met her gaze.

“I love you, hermosa.  We have all night, and if you think I’m going to waste a minute of it, you’re sorely mistaken.”

His eyes were half-lidded with desire, but she felt as though he were seeing straight through her, and impulsively, she said, “Tell me again, Rafa.  Tell me how you love me.”

His mouth curled into a lazy smile before his hand cupped her face.  “Te amo, Nessie.  I love you, baby.  I am in love with you, madly.”  He kissed her gently now, brushing his lips against hers.  “You see me, all of me, and you still want me, and I will never not love you.”

“You’re precious,” she murmured, “so very precious to me.”

He pulled her against him then, kissing her even more deeply and suddenly even he couldn’t control the desire flooding through him.  She was pulling his shirt up, needing his skin against hers, and he lifted his arms, yanking it off and tossing it onto the floor.  His fingers tugged at the hook in the front of the negligee, unhooking it quickly as she twisted against him to get out of it.  She pulled him on top of her and then her leg was hooked around his thigh. He was lost again in the feel of her softness pressed against him, wrapped around him, encompassing his body. She continued to kiss and suck on every inch of skin she could reach.  Her hands were tangled in his hair, tugging firmly, and he clutched one of her hips hard and ground against her until she cried out, “oh please!”.

He kissed her then, his tongue tangling with hers needily as he unwrapped her body from around his.  Coming up for air, he gently touched her lips with his finger.  “Be good for me, Nessie…” He winked at her.  “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

Feeling his tongue swirl over her ribs and nip close to her belly button, she groaned, “I’m not very virtuous.”

“That’s okay,” he answered, placing soft kisses over her abdomen.  “I love you just the way you are.  I understand your limitations here.”  And before she could answer, his fingers were easing her panties down and his mouth was placing light, tentative kisses over her pubic bone.

She was soaking wet, and he gently dipped a finger inside of her, listening to her catch her breath, before he sucked it into his mouth.  “Divine, as always,” he told her, before brushing a thumb between her folds, over her clit lightly.  A moment later she felt the tip of his tongue tracing her, and she moaned softly.  His thumb brushed over her again as he said, “I love you, Ness.  I love you.”

His tongue circled her then, firmly and quickly, as he sank a middle finger inside of her, and she groaned under him.  Her hands went to his hair and he grunted in pleasure as she gripped and tugged.  A second finger joined the first, and he could feel her hips grinding against him, trying to increase the friction.  As he started to pull away, planning to enter her, she gasped, “please, no...please don’t stop...god, please…” so he sucked at her clit, hard, and she arched automatically, crying out his name and tugging his hair rhythmically.

“God, oh god.”  Her body had fallen back to the mattress and she had let go of him.  He slid back and kissed her inner thigh repeatedly, occasionally sucking a bruise.  “Come here, you.”  She smiled softly and he grinned back, moving up until he was lying on top of her.  “It may be time to lose the boxers,” she suggested, and he chuckled, nipping at her jawline.

“You think?”  He glanced down between them, at his cock emerging from the fabric, red and swollen.  “I think it makes a statement.”

“Yeah,” she teased, “one that says I’m too impatient to take my clothes off.”

“Well, if the boxers fit…”

She snorted, then gently untangled him from the underwear and eased it down his legs.  “Lay back, babe,” she directed him.  “I have plans.”

He leaned back in the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, and smirking at her.  Thrusting his hips up playfully, he asked, “Do they include my dick?”

“And your balls.  Don’t leave the boys out.”  With that she circled the head with her tongue before running it up and down his vein, then taking him deeply into her mouth.

He sighed.  “I really, really like it when you do this.  This is something I really like about you.  Have I ever mentioned before to you how much I like this?  You’re very talented.”

She gagged on him for a second, and pulled off and sputtered.  “You still talk too much, you know that?”

He laughed, then tangled a hand in her hair as she went down again.  “Sorry.  I’ll shut up now.”

She hummed, “Mmmhmm,” and felt him cautiously flex his hips upward.  

She continued her rhythm, moving up and down on him as she gently stroked his balls, until he began to gently thrust upward.  His hand was in her hair, carefully moving her head, and she heard him murmur, “This okay?”

She squeezed his outer thigh and hummed assent and let him fuck her mouth.  

She knew he loved this, and they had explored it before.  He was always initially cautious, but as his arousal grew and they both became more confident, he would increase his speed and depth.  It was incredibly easy to get him off this way every time, but tonight she wanted more from him.  She wasn’t about to let it end like this if she could help it.

He was panting now, thrusting purposefully, holding her head firmly in his hands.  She pinched his hip and he let go.  Sitting up to catch her breath, she said, “I want you to fuck me.  Please?”

She could tell he was close and wondered if he’d be able to last, but his eyes glinted at her.  “Since you ask so nicely, I guess I can spare a little for a friend.”

“You’re so funny,” she retorted.  “Sit up and let me ride you.”

“Jesus.  So fucking bossy when you’re getting laid.”

“Mmhmm.”  She straddled his waist and slowly guided him in, then automatically rested her head on his shoulder.  “God that’s so good.”

She felt him nip her skin.  “Hey.”  She pulled up and he kissed her gently, stroking her face.  “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Rafa.”  She pulled herself up, then slowly eased back on him before leaning forward and kissing him.  Her mouth moved slowly over his, tongue dancing over his lips as she began to rise and fall on him slowly.  His hands grasped her hips to guide her.

This was all she had ever wanted.  To be seen.  To be loved.  To be cherished.

As they moved in tandem, her hands came to wrap themselves in his hair and guide their kisses.  One of his hands gravitated to her back, stroking the skin there.  His hips rocked upwards to meet hers in synchronized movements as he tasted her skin, her lips, her sweat.  When he needed to move faster, her hips snapped quickly to match him.  His mouth slipped from hers and slowly suckled a nipple, and the room was quiet other than the soft sounds of pleasure and an occasional creak of the bed.

She leaned down and sucked his pulse point and he groaned somewhere deep in his throat as he bucked upward, clinging to her.  She felt his fingers probing for her clit desperately, knew he was barely holding on for her, and quickly guided them where they needed to be.  “Come, baby,” she whispered in his ear.  “Oh god, please come...I love you, Rafael…” And then her orgasm caught her and she was lost in the sensation, vaguely aware of him clutching at her and crying out her name.

*******************************************

“I love you.”

It was barely daylight.  The curtains were still drawn and the sun was just starting its climb in the sky.  She was kissing his forearm and he was still warm and fuzzy from sleep, deeply satiated from the night before.  It was a feeling he had been afraid of getting used to, but now he might actually let himself enjoy it.

“Te amo, Nessie.”  He kissed her bare shoulder.  “I could get used to this.”

She rolled over to face him and eskimo-kissed his nose.  “Aren’t you already, kind of?  I’m spoiled by you and don’t want to give it up.”

“We should both be this spoiled, for the rest of our lives,” he replied.  “I think we should make that a goal in life.”

“Finally,” she murmured, pressing her face into his chest, “A goal I can actually keep.”


	23. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael chuckled at Max’s enthusiasm.  He was an easy kid to get along with, and even though he and Vanessa only had him overnight on weekends right now, they all seemed to be getting along superbly.  In fact, Bobby and Vanessa had agreed that in a couple more weeks, they would add one more night a week to their time with Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have reached the ending of this part of their story. I'm leaning toward writing a part two, but we'll see.
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments! They have meant the world to me.

“Wafa!  It’s SO high!”  Max squinted his eyes as he looked into the sky at the kite he was flying with Rafael.  The dinosaur-shaped kite had reached beyond the tree line, and the little boy was beyond impressed.

“You think it’s good like that?” Rafael asked him, “or is it TOO high?”

“It’s just wight!” He squealed gleefully, jumping up and down.  “It’s so tall!  Even my daddy couldn’t weach that kite!”

Rafael chuckled at Max’s enthusiasm.  He was an easy kid to get along with, and even though he and Vanessa only had him overnight on weekends right now, they all seemed to be getting along superbly.  In fact, Bobby and Vanessa had agreed that in a couple more weeks, they would add one more night a week to their time with Max.

“Hey kiddo,” Rafael said, patting Max’s shoulder, “it’s about time to go home.  Momma’s gonna be there and we need to get ready for dinner.”

“Aww.”  Max frowned until Rafael offered him the job of assisting with winding up the string.  The llittle boy happily wrapped the string with his help, and then they were on their way.

**********************************************

Vanessa had just gotten home when the front door opened, Rafael and Max bustling inside noisily.  “Hey Momma!  Guess what?  Wafa gotted us this weally cool kite and we flied it SO SO high!  Higher even than Daddy!  Higher than the TWEES!”

“Wow!”  She did her best to sound impressed.  “That’s pretty high!  You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“We could show you now…” Max began.

Rafael ruffled his hair.  “Remember, we have to get ready for dinner.”

“Oh yeah,” Max jumped onto the couch next to his mom.  “Hey Momma, we had a vote for dinner and me and Wafa gotted a...what’s it called, Wafa?”

Rafael was smirking, and Vanessa already knew where this was headed.  “A consensus,” Rafael volunteered.

“Yeah, a sensus.  We decided we want pizza.”  He looked up at his mom’s skeptical face, then added, “or sghetti.  Wafa said you might not wanna have pizza so we could have sghetti.”

“I see.”  Vanessa ran her fingers through Max’s sweaty hair.  “It sounds like we’re having an Italian night.”

“No,” Max shook his head.  “Pizza or sghetti.  Not Talian.  We alweady had a sensus.”

Rafa plopped into a chair next to the sofa.  “Honey, pizza and spaghetti come from an Italian restaurant, so Momma’s right.  It’s an Italian night.”

Max nodded cheerfully.  “Otay, Momma.  Talian then!”  As though he suddenly realized his mom might not like those choices, he added, “otay?”

She laughed.  “Yes, it’s okay.  I agree with the consensus.”

Max high fived Rafael, and Rafa stood to grab the italian takeout menu.  Vanessa followed him into the kitchen as Max began to dig through his toy chest.  “Just let it be known,” she added, pinching his butt, “we’re having salad for dinner at least once next week.”

“But Momma,” he teased, “you don’t have a sensus.”

“I don’t need one,” she reminded him.  “I’m the mom.”

******************************************

“Things go okay with Whitnauer today?” he asked as they were getting ready for bed.  She had met with her supervisor earlier while he and Max had been at the park.  She was due to start back at work on Monday.  He had started back the Monday prior.

“Yeah,” she sighed.  “I guess there’s some concern about us working on cases together.  The powers that be will finish hashing things out, but I may end up doing more victim advocacy and education and less profiling.”

He nodded, pulling on one of his old Harvard tees.  It was ridiculously worn and ridiculously comfortable.  She insisted they smelled like him after all this time, too, and was actually wearing one of the other two he owned.  “That makes sense.  McCoy wants to meet with me about it next week.”

She hummed noncommittally, then lay down on her side as he climbed into the bed.  “Max wore me out,” he said, chuckling to himself.  “I think it blew his little mind that something could be taller than his dad.”

“Well, Bobby’s like six-four or something,” she said.  “That probably seems like twenty feet when you’re three.”

“Yeah, probably.”  He turned off the light, then slid down under the sheets and leaned over to kiss her.  “I love you.”

He could feel her smile, see her eyes in the dim light from the street.  “I love you too.  And hey, thanks for caring about my kid.”

Rafael reached up and stroked her hair gently.  “He’s like his mother.  He’s easy to love.”  He kissed her forehead then.  “Thank you for believing that I was capable, even when I wasn’t sure.”

“You’re so much more than you think,” she told him.  “So precious to me.  Always.”  She kissed him again.  “Wanna fool around?  I locked the bedroom door.”

He snickered.  “Last time you had to be quiet on that swing you were loud, remember?”

She gasped.  “No.  That is NOT how I remember it.  Besides, it’s not my fault if you make me make those sounds.”

He laughed, mouth pressed against her shoulder.  “Oh, trust me, we’ve only started to discover all the sounds you can make.”

“That sounds like a dare, counselor.”

“Eh, think of it more as a challenge.  Besides, we have time.”  He kissed her again, and rolled against her.  “Right?”

“For you?” she asked.  “I’ve got all the time in the world.”


End file.
